


My Last Sunrise

by littlecakes



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Eventual Smut, M/M, Mild Gore, Romance, Tags will be updated as we go to prevent spoilers, Vampire Ignis Scientia, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-07-23 04:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecakes/pseuds/littlecakes
Summary: Prompto goes for a midnight walk in the forest only to be assaulted by a monster. He's saved by a strange man named Ignis who brings him back to his forest manor, telling him he can't leave until his wounds are healed. A suspicious Prompto longs to know the true meaning behind Ignis' actions. A fic featuring elements of dark romance and classic gothic horror.





	1. you are the night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChocoSand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoSand/gifts).



> This fic is for my dear [SuWan](http://su-wan.tumblr.com/), who really is lovely and deserves all the praise in the world for her beautiful arts and even better friendship.
> 
> Find her art [here!](http://chocosand.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Yes, I will shamelessly plug for my friends forever because i love them sorry
> 
> This bitch slipped by the betas this chapter because I was way too excited to post I'm sorry I love you guys

It was supposed to be an innocent party.

That’s what Prompto told himself, at least, when he first showed up. There were just a few Glaives, some locals, and that was it. It wasn’t supposed to be… whatever that was he just walked in on. A shitshow? Yeah, a shitshow. That’s what Crowe had called it, at least, as she swept up the shards of the last good glass they had in any of the motel rooms the Glaives had rented.

He wasn’t having it. He just wasn’t. Prompto wasn’t in the mood for screaming loud parties right now; not when they were on such an important mission and were supposed to be up in just a few short hours. Unfortunately, the walls of the motel were paper-thin. While he felt bad for himself, he felt even worse for the other unsuspecting motel guests who were merely trying to get rest, not to drink their body weight in a variety of Galahdian liquors.

The modest rest stop the Glaives had chosen to “rest” at stood at the edge of the great forest surrounding the Vesperpool. The lights of the storefront flickered and Prompto could hear the constant hum of the neon signs from across the street, probably because it was so damn quiet. From here, Prompto could see the store clerk’s head nodding as he slept upright at his register.

Bass pumping could be heard through the windows of most of the main floor of the motel. He wondered how the owners could let this slide- then again, they did only pay 30 gil a night. It’s not like they were staying in the lap of luxury. The Glaives could get away with a party of this stature.

Sighing, Prompto walked the edge of the parking lot. There was no way he was settling down now, not with the bass still echoing in his head and thumping out of tempo with his heart.  Checking his phone, he found it was barely 1 AM. The thought of being up in merely five hours set his heart racing and his throat closing slightly; anxiety’s hold clawed at his body like a hungry beast ready for a meal.

The forest was oddly quiet. Enchanting, really. He found himself questioning his choices as he stepped off the curb and began walking through the grass; the dew collected on the toes of his boots as the grass wisped underneath his footfall. The sound of each sole striking the soft pad of grass was loud compared to the sanctity of the forest surrounding him.

He really shouldn’t be doing this, he thought. Prompto was merely a photographer, after all, hired by the Crown to photograph the ancient ruins that dwelled beneath the Vesperpool. He barely knew how to wield anything that didn’t have a lens on the end. Still, he toyed with the notion of safety and chose confidence instead as he wandered further into the forest.

Ancient pines taller than the motel loomed like midnight giants around him. The stars could barely be seen, the swirl of the galaxy that always made him feel infinitesimal inaccessible beneath the shroud of dark tree branches. These trees themselves did a wonderful job of making him feel small; how any man could think that he had more might or wisdom than any of these giants truly was a fool.

He was a fool, too. He knew it as soon as he felt a cold chill in the air, colder than any magic or snow could have wrought. How stupid he was, to think that he could simply wander into the forest without facing the consequences. Then again, he wasn’t really sure what drew him in; certainly it wasn’t the promise of death. Whatever it was, it had entranced him to the point of mindlessness.

Prompto almost wished he hadn’t turned around to see the offender. It was very nearly human- not human enough, unfortunately, to calm the hairs that had stood at attention on the nape of Prompto’s neck. Swathed in robes, the being stood nearly two feet taller than him. The way it moved made him shudder, made him shiver; it didn’t move like any living thing he’d ever seen before. Instead, it floated like a cloud and its robes drifted in the air just above the ground.

It was cold, unbelievably cold, since the appearance of the foul humanoid. Prompto could feel his teeth begin to chatter from the cold and the adrenaline that was already coursing through his veins. As it grew nearer, the opening of its cloak fell open, revealing its rotting, corpse-like face. The mere smell of the creature made him feel sick.

Prompto scrambled for the nearest tree. Perhaps if he could climb high enough, he could escape it. As he grasped the lower branches with his hands and lifted a leg to begin his ascent, a slimy, brutish hand closed on his ankle.

That's when the burning started.

It was a dull ache at first, to which Prompto responded with a grunt and a kick, but he had no luck in ridding himself of the decaying hand that had a hold on him. When the dull ache grew to a searing, sharp pain, Prompto yelped and fell, loosening the creature's vice-like grip but also plummeting to the ground. His ankle folded unnaturally beneath him, only adding more hurt to accompany the pain of the burn on his skin.

A shroud-like mist began to creep in across the mossy earth beneath Prompto; it seemed to curl and twist around every branch, bush, and leaf that decorated the forest floor. There was something in him telling him to get away from the strange mist, but his ankle twinged beneath him and the lich holding onto him continued to imbue him with its fire magic. At this point he could see the reddening of his skin beneath its rotten palm.

“No!” he cried, crawling away on his elbows and pushing into the soft earth with the heel of his free foot to no avail. The mist was beginning to form a veil around him and the monster. It had a sickeningly sweet aroma that filled Prompto’s nose. Though he tried to hold his breath it was as if the mist itself was permeating him, filling his lungs with its moisture and bidding him to breathe. He did so sharply and after taking a breath, felt the lull of sleep teasing at the edges of his mind.

Whimpering, he struggled against the creature’s grip. The mist was shrouding it too; he watched with shock and horror as the lich’s rotting face was encapsulated in the white fog. The monster pulled away with a scream, releasing Prompto from its fiery grasp and floating away rapidly. He struggled to keep his eyes open he watched the creature flee the scene.

Though he was grateful to be rid of his assailant, he couldn’t help but wonder what could have scared off the lich with mere mist. It was growing more and more difficult to sleep the longer he breathed, and while he tried to fight the natural instinct to inhale, the mist seemed to compel him to breathe long and deep.

As his eyelids began to grow too heavy to keep open, a figure appeared from deep within the icy shroud of fog. Cloaked in black, the figure approached him, its movement not dissimilar from the lich’s creeping glide. The uncanny motion filled Prompto with fear; whatever this was was powerful enough to scare a lich and was coming straight for him.

“No…” he murmured, as his eyes finally fell shut.

With the last shreds of consciousness, he felt strong, unrelenting arms encompass his body and lift him from the forest floor.

  
  
  
  


Prompto awoke with a start. He was  _ not _ where he’d fallen asleep. Rather than lying on the forest floor, he found himself in a comfortable bed. Its four-poster frame stood tall but not nearly as tall as the ceiling, which seemed to go on endlessly. The walls were a dark purple along with the velvety bedspread he clenched in his fists. Paintings of various shapes and sizes covered the walls and the furniture looked expensive. It felt like he’d stepped into the past; everything in this room looked like it belonged to another decade- no, another century entirely.

Though everything was old, it was meticulously clean. Everything seemed to have been placed very carefully. As he looked around the room, he noticed that the window had heavy drapery pulled to the sides, exposing the sunset peeking through the trees outside. It was just about nightfall now. He’d slept all day, which was incredibly odd, seeing as he normally woke with the sun, but there was no denying the fact that the room was rapidly darkening.

Was last night a dream? Was  _ this  _ a dream? Surely, it seemed nearly otherworldly. He’d never been anywhere like this in his life. Not even the Citadel was this lavishly decorated. Remembering the night before, Prompto ripped the sheets away from his body, revealing a swollen ankle covered in burn blisters. Nope, not a dream, but unfortunately, not a nightmare either. The odd encounter he had had was real in every sense.

Meaning this weird place was real, too.

Thankfully, he was still fully dressed in his clothes, minus the boots. Upon examination, Prompto spotted them set carefully by the door with his socks tucked inside. Whoever had brought him here had been considerate enough to remove them. He was grateful; by the way he could feel his ankle continuing to swell, if he had left them on, he would have certainly had trouble getting them off. His ankle was bruised, burned, and irritated. It seemed to pulse with his own heartbeat. Thank goodness there was no blood.

He didn’t know what to do now. The whole situation itself seemed very strange: waking up, cared for, in a strange house, not knowing at all where he was. He didn’t even know where to start; when he looked out the window from the bed he could barely see the treeline that continued on for what seemed like forever. Prompto couldn’t even see that anymore as the sun plummeted below the tips of the massive trees. The sunset seemed to swallow the forest up, as it did the room and all of its contents. Before he was completely blinded by the darkness, Prompto leaned over to turn on an ancient lamp. At least there was electricity in this strange place.

A sharp knock at the door brought him back to his senses. Prompto pulled the blankets up to cover most of his face as the door swung open. A tall, slender man, with skin white as paper and carefully sculpted hair, stepped inside. He was holding a tray laden with various items and food. The man moved with grace and precision Prompto had never seen in a human before; it was as if every step was carefully orchestrated to perfect fluidity. Prompto found himself captured by the man’s body movement alone.

“You’re awake,” he said, his Tenebraen accent certainly surprising. Prompto had never actually heard one in person before. The blonde found himself at a loss for words once the man turned to face him. Incredible, piercing green eyes, framed by delicate, slender glasses, looked upon him with curiosity. The only thing more perfect, more beautiful than the eyes were the cheekbones, the plush lips… this man was an image of beauty and Prompto could feel himself growing red in the face.

He merely squeaked and nodded his head.

“Good. The lich that haunts these woods doesn’t like visitors,” the man said. “Thankfully, he likes me even less.” 

Prompto caught himself staring, but the man didn’t seem to mind. He continued with his activities regardless of Prompto’s captivation. The ashy blonde set the tray down on the chest at the foot of the bed and laid a bag beside it before extracting its contents. It looked like an ancient medical kit now that Prompto got a look at it; the stainless steel glimmered in the lamplight as the man carefully placed scissors, bandages, and a towel on the bedspread along with a jar of salve.

Apparently he had been in the room while Prompto was sleeping and the thought of that alone made Prompto squirm with nerves. This strange man and his cold, quiet aura did nothing to soothe him. Rather, it set him off, seemingly encouraging the anxiety that had been slowly building in his gut to build to a rolling boil. There was something about him that didn’t seem normal but Prompto couldn’t put a finger on it. The man went to the washbasin in the corner of the room and wheeled it to his bedside. It had already been filled with fresh water and a cloth floated in its surface.

“Can I?” he said, pointing at Prompto’s ankle.

“What?” Prompto stuttered.

The man smiled, close-lipped, at him. “Can I attend to your wound?”

“Oh,” Prompto said, pulling back the blankets to reveal the rather nauseating injury. Its change in color from pink to yellow was doing nothing for the way his stomach rolled at the sight. “Uh, yeah.”

He took Prompto’s ankle in hand and the blonde nearly sighed at the relief. The man’s hands were cold as ice and felt delightful against his red, burned flesh. Turning Prompto’s ankle, he examined the injury. Prompto could now see the welts that grew where the lich’s fingers had pressed against the surface of his boot. That explained the smell; burned skin and leather permeated the room. His boot was scorched, so much so that there were holes burned into it.

Grimacing, Prompto looked away as the man wrung out the cloth and draped it over the burn. The contact of the cloth on the wound was miserable but the icy chill of the water was soothing. The contrast of the two sensations made Prompto squirm.

“Is that alright?” the man asked.

“Just… it hurts but it feels good? I dunno,” Prompto gasped. “Can- can you tell me where I am? Who are you?”

The man’s brow furrowed at he gently wiped Prompto’s skin. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you much about where you are; surely if you knew, you would share the location with others, and my privacy is most important to me.”

Prompto bit his lip. So no one had any idea where he was- no one but this guy, anyway.  _ That _ was bad. He’d seen enough scary kidnapping movies to know that this was really, really, bad.

“My name is Ignis.” The man said, setting the cloth back into the washbasin before reaching for the jar of salve.

“Ignis…. Ignis what?” Prompto asked.

Ignis smiled. Was it wistful? Sad? Prompto couldn’t really tell either way, but to him, it didn’t feel like a smile. “Last names aren’t important,” he said.

“Are you holding me hostage?” Prompto blurted. “What are you gonna do to me?”

The bittersweet smile was wiped off of Ignis’ face as he looked Prompto in the eye. His stare chilled the blonde to the bone. “It may seem that way, but I promise you, walking on this ankle is a bad idea. That being said, you have no idea where you are, or where you will go. It’s in your best interest to stay here until you’re healed.”

“You can’t make me stay here,” Prompto quipped.

The man smirked. “I can’t?”

“N-no,” Prompto stammered.

Ignis sighed. “Very well, then. Be on your way. Good luck out there.”

Prompto looked at him with defiance burning in his eyes before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. His ankle twinged at the pressure of his body weight pushing it into the hardwood floor. It was nothing compared to the pain of his first step, though. He couldn’t help the cry that slipped his lips, but he could quell it. He whimpered with each step he took until he was out of the bedroom.

He didn’t know that Ignis was right behind him until he could hear the man’s voice just behind the shell of his ear. “Go on, then, out with you.”

The hallway was dark. Prompto had to feel his way along the wall, limping along as he did so. The fright of being alone in an unknown house with Ignis- his  _ kidnapper _ , he reminded himself- dulled the pain of his sprained ankle quite well. He was beginning to feel confident when the toes of his injured foot connected with something large and heavy. Prompto yowled in pain as he dropped to the floor, cradling his injury.

“Well? Are you going to leave? Seems you’re having a hard time of it.” Ignis voice sounded through the darkness.

Prompto scoffed. “How can you even see me?”

“I prefer the dark very much to the light.”

“ _ Weird.” _

“In every way, really.”

Ignis’ strong arms encircled him and lifted him off the floor. It only took a moment for him to carry Prompto back to his room. He deposited the blonde back on the bed before sitting on the edge once more. A sly smile teased at the corners of his mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Prompto probed.

“Nothing,” Ignis said. “I forget, at times, how persistent humans can be.”

“Humans?” Prompto asked, puzzled.

Ignis shook his head and gave Prompto an innocent look. “Never you mind.”

Prompto stared on as Ignis used his icy fingers to spread salve on his burn. He didn’t understand how this man could be holding him hostage, yet caring for him at the same time. What kind of kidnapper tended to their hostage’s wounds? Or fed them?

He didn’t get it. It just didn’t seem right. Nothing indicated Ignis’ intentions with him other than to keep him here and help him, which was just weird.

“ _ Why _ can’t I leave?” Prompto chirped as Ignis began dressing his wound with a soft, white bandage.

“Ah, now you’re asking the right questions,” Ignis replied, offering him a sly, close-lipped smile. He paused for a moment, thoughts flashing behind emerald eyes, before speaking. “You cannot leave because I don’t own a car. You would have to walk.”

“Then how did I get here?” Prompto asked, his eyes narrowing.

Ignis laughed. It was like a chime. clear, harmonious, pleasant to the ear. “What’s your name?”

“Prompto, Prompto  _ Argentum _ ,” he replied, emphasizing his last name.

“Well, Prompto  _ Argentum _ , you’re quite curious, aren’t you?” Ignis said, rinsing his hands of the leftover salve in the basin before rising to his feet gracefully. “I’ve brought you some food, but if it’s not to your liking, the kitchen is downstairs.”

“You mean I can leave this room?”

“If you so desire,” Ignis said with a wave of his hand as he opened the bedroom door to the pitch-black hallway. “It’s not as if you are bound to this room.”

With that, he was gone. Prompto flopped back against the soft pillows and stared at the billowing fabric that draped from poster to poster. It fluttered softly with the breeze from an open window. The long, black fabric draped from the floor up and over the top to the other end of the bed.

Ignis seemed nice enough, if not a little trying. There was something about him, though. The way he talked, the way his touch chilled Prompto to the bone, even how he followed Prompto perfectly in the dark down the hallway… it all seemed  _ off _ . Set the siren screaming in the primal part of his brain.

As he laid there contemplating the rather enigmatic nature of his captor (Roommate? There really was no label that seemed to suit Ignis), the soft sound of a piano echoed through the open door. The tune was shockingly melancholy and each fall of the piano’s hammers seemed to strike Prompto’s heartstrings.

Though sad, the song was lulling and calm. It was played beautifully- not even the masters Prompto had heard in Insomnia’s music hall could rival the skill with which this pianist was playing. As Prompto allowed himself to fall in its trance, he drifted off to sleep.


	2. the night alone understands you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops did I add an extra chapter? I _did_ , oh nooooo..... ;)

It had been a week since Prompto’s fateful incident with both the lich and Ignis. After his time at the mansion- he didn’t know what else to call the massive house in which Ignis resided,  _ alone _ , with gobs of expensive and ancient-looking furniture and dozens of paintings that hung on every square inch of wall- he’d learned a little bit about Ignis.

First of all, the man didn’t sleep, and if he did, Prompto never knew when. He was always present or nearby in some shape or form, waiting around a corner or appearing in the doorframe as if he’d always been standing there. The man had caught Prompto off guard more than once during his stay.

Ignis didn’t eat, either. This was an easy tell. Once Prompto had gotten over his reservations about his odd situation and he could no longer hide in the bedroom without fear of starving, the blonde limped down the hall, feeling his way along the dark corridor. It was a slow, painful process.

“May I assist you?” Ignis asked, his voice appearing right behind Prompto’s ear.

The blonde yelped. “Jeez, Ignis! Warn a guy if you’re creeping in the hallway!”

“Apologies,” the taller man said.

“Are there any lights in here?” Prompto whined as he shuffled his feet, wary of any lurking furniture.

“They don’t work, I’m afraid. Allow me,” Ignis replied , and before Prompto could object, the ashy blonde scooped him up in his arms and carried him in a graceful glide down the hallway. Ignis didn’t seem disturbed by carrying a full-grown man in his arms. It was almost as if he were skating across the floor with silent steps and a whimsical gait. He hadn’t realized just how fluid Ignis’ movements were. Then again, aside from taking care of Prompto’s wound, he hadn’t touched him at all.

Prompto allowed himself to settle his arms around Ignis’ neck as he navigated the house. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed touch, contact with another person, until Ignis. It had been a long time, longer than the blonde wanted to admit, since he’d felt someone’s body pressed against his, and Ignis’ caring nature only made Prompto crave him more. The man always took care while lifting him, scrubbing his burned skin clean, and with the touches that always lingered after.

With the black of night filling the house with its endless darkness, Prompto couldn’t help the unease that settled low in his belly, but the contact helped. Though cold to the touch, Ignis was soft, porcelain,  _ perfect _ ; Prompto could recall the many times he’d stopped to admire the man’s flawless skin and piercing eyes, though the moment was ephemeral.

It wasn’t just his incredible appearance that had Prompto enthralled. It was everything about the man, really, despite his odd quirks. He always seemed to be there when Prompto needed him and over the week had begun to hang around after dressing his wounds or cooking for him. The blonde couldn’t help but hope that the draw was mutual, like they were caught in each other’s pull like dying stars.

The light in the kitchen  _ did  _ work, thankfully. A table lamp that appeared completely out of place in the room illuminated the countertops and stove with a soft glow. The rest of the house looked like something out of the Victorian era, but the kitchen was rather contemporary; it even had a refrigerator.

After turning on the light, verdant eyes fell on Prompto. He could feel Ignis’ gaze linger on his own before travelling a searing path down from his eyes to his lips. They dared to move from his lips to his neck and Prompto swore he could feel the man’s fingertips sink deeper into the soft flesh of his thigh.

Prompto couldn’t help but squirm in his arms. Anticipation, anxiety, it all swirled together deep in his guts and made him  _ need _ to move. The way Ignis watched his body wriggle in his arms was carnal,  _ predatory _ , almost, as he watched the bare skin of Prompto’s chest stretch and pull over his muscles.

“Ignis,” Prompto murmured pleadingly, trying to bring the man back to Eos. Ignis inhaled sharply as his eyes met Prompto’s once more. His emerald irises were nearly ensconced by dark, midnight pupils. Prompto felt lost once their gaze met, like he was wandering in the black abyss of Ignis’ eyes.

Almost at once, Ignis’ pupils reduced to a normal size and he nearly dropped Prompto in astonishment. It was the first time Prompto had ever seen him lose the cool composure that seemed second nature to the man. “Prompto! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Prompto squeaked as Ignis set him carefully on the counter. Prompto continued to perch there as Ignis rifled through the refrigerator hastily. “You, uh... are you alright?”

“Fine, I’m fine,” Ignis snapped, slamming a carton of eggs on the counter before taking out a bundle wrapped in brown paper.

“Don’t sound fine,” Prompto said, hopping off the counter and limping to the cabinet to grab a glass. The cabinets were higher up than his own at home, presumably to match its equally tall owner. Prompto had to set a knee on the counter to reach the sparkling crystal.

“Prompto-”

It was too late. The soft silkiness of Prompto’s pajama pants slipped against the smooth marble of the counter and he came crashing down to the floor with half of the glassware. The sound of shattering glass became an orchestra of chaos that filled the kitchen as nearly a dozen glasses came in contact with the polished wood floor.

“I’m good, I’m… oh, shit. I landed in some,” Prompto gasped, holding his hand out in front of him. Several large shards of glass were embedded in his palm, glittering like diamonds in the red rivulets of blood that were already running from the wounds down his wrist.

A drop hit the floor. Then another, and another.

“Shit shit shit, that’s gonna stain your floor, Ignis, can I have a towel or something?” Prompto asked. He winced as he extracted the large shards from his palm with a careful fingernail.

“Ignis?”

Pools of deep crimson had replaced Ignis’ jade irises when Prompto looked up at him to see what was the matter. Pupils shrunken to pinpoints stared at the blood that was rolling off of Prompto’s arm. The beautiful features of his face were quickly distorting into something garish and horrifying.

“Ignis!?” Prompto cried.

“Get… get out!” Ignis hissed.

Prompto grasped at the counter to stand and his palm slipped in warm, sticky blood. Though he had bare feet, he had no objection to limping through the shattered glass to escape the terrifying menace that was appearing before him. He understood now; the predatory looks, the cold touch, the sleeping, the eating… though Prompto had never believed in supernatural beings before, he  _ definitely _ did now.

As he limped to the doorway leading into the kitchen, Prompto leaned against the jamb and looked back at Ignis. The man was gripping the stone countertop so hard that Prompto could see the musculature of his arms twitching beneath his rolled sleeves with effort. Ignis’ fingernails dug into the surface of the marble, cracking it beneath their force.

Prompto though his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

“ _ Get out!” _ Ignis yelled. “ _ I can’t… I can’t not- _ ”

“Where do I go!?” Prompto choked as he backed behind the door frame and into the hallway.

“ _ Basement… steel door!” _

“Got it!” Prompto said, limping down the hallway as fast as he could. A roar and a crash echoed from the doorway, followed by dragging footsteps. Each footfall sent a new strike of terror through Prompto’s heart as he shuffled down the hallway and most of the stairs, his ankle twinging with every step. Surely, this much activity would undo all the recovering he’d done the past week-

A guttural shriek echoed from the hallway. It sounded like his name, though he wasn’t sure. Fight or flight had embraced him like a mother to a child, and his raucous heartbeat filled his ears like steady bass. There was nothing he could do but break into a run as tears streamed down his face.

The basement was dark, save for red bulbs installed in the antique light fixtures that lined the hallway. There was no furniture, no paintings, nothing; the room itself was sterile in nature. At the end of the hallway, a steel door reflected the scarlet light brilliantly like a lighthouse in the dark.

Prompto was starting to feel dizzy. As he looked down, he saw the steady trickle of blood dripping from his hand. Even he could smell it; the copper, tangy aroma of the blood seemed to saturate the humid air of the basement.

He wasn’t the only one. Ignis let another visceral scream rip from his throat that was followed by another crash. Prompto was sure now that it was  _ his _ name that ignis was screaming; was it a warning? Surely, if Ignis had wanted to kill him, he could have done it a dozen times over by now.

If survival was what Ignis wanted for Prompto, then he would try his hardest to give it to him.

The sprint down the hallway was brief and filled with pain as Prompto hobbled at speed. Someone was crying- was it him? Were those sounds coming from him? A sharp stab of pain shot up his shin and he crumpled to the floor with a sob not ten feet from the steel door.

Prompto looked up as he heard the splintering of wood and saw the railing from the top of the stairs come crashing down. Ignis’ form lay atop it for a brief moment before rising . Prompto could see his blood, shimmering a deep, near-black scarlet, running down his forearms in thick rivers that hugged the veins that protruded in his alabaster skin.

“ _ NO! _ ” Ignis shrieked.

“Gods, no,” Prompto cried.

“ _ GO!” _ Ignis screamed. He writhed as he stumbled down the hallway, gripping at the walls with bloodied stumps of fingertips, trying to slow himself. Prompto couldn’t tear himself away from crimson orbs of eyes, from the grotesque features that had transmogrified Ignis’ beautiful face.

_ “PROMPTO!” _ Ignis howled before another guttural scream wrenched itself from the pale column of his throat. The awful sound brought Prompto hurtling back to reality.Ignis was closing  the distance between them and growing dangerously near. As he did so, he struggled against the wall even harder, leaving bloodied streaks in a trail along the wall.

Luckily, the door was ajar, meaning Prompto could push it open with his shoulder as he crawled past it. He shut it as quickly as he could and heard Ignis’ body collide with it on the other side just as he turned the lock. Ignis thrashed against the metal, forcing it to bend against its frame. Prompto thanked the Astrals that Ignis would have such a strange door in his basement.

Prompto felt along the wall until he found a lightswitch. Once flipped, it filled the room with the same red light that had ensconced the hallway. Collapsing against the door, Prompto caught his breath and wiped the tears from his eyes with his clean hand. Another tremendous thud sent his heart racing again and the blonde staggered away from the door.

There wasn’t much in this room. A bed, an armoire, and a small vanity was all there was. A large archway led to a second room, to which Prompto limped. Another red light revealed a bathroom, fully equipped with a massive claw-foot bathtub and a medical-grade stainless steel sink. 

Prompto struggled to the sink, where he rinsed the blood that had caked onto his arm. The fresh, viscous fluid that gushed from the cut in his hand painted the water red, too. So much red, he thought, and it all made sense. When he closed his eyes, Ignis’ vermilion eyes and twisted features were tattooed to the back of his eyelids.

He began rifling through the bathroom drawers to distract himself. Surely, whatever he found here wouldn’t surprise him, and he surmised correctly. There was a ton of medical equipment: bandages, sutures, scissors, cotton, glue, and most importantly, antiseptic. Why a vampire would need these things, Prompto didn’t know- or didn’t want to. He snatched the bottle of antiseptic from the drawer before pulling the cap off with his teeth.

The liquid stung his skin, painting it brown beneath the red haze of the lights. Prompto sucked air through his teeth sharply as he waited for it to dry; after years of clumsiness, one thing he could depend on himself to do right was first-aid. Onceit dried, he used the dermal glue in the drawer to seal himself shut.

Now all there was to do was wait. He used his pajama pants to mop up the blood he’d dripped all over the floor before tossing them in the trash, unable to help but wonder what Ignis would do once he discovered them there, soaked in blood. He almost felt guilty, but didn’t know what else to do.

Ignis’ frenzy was truly the most terrifying thing Prompto had ever seen in his entire life. Never had he witnessed such a horrifying transformation; he wondered if the frenzy change itself was painful. It had to have been, with the amazing, terrifying metamorphosis Ignis had gone through. Prompto couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

The thought that it all happened because of his carelessness, his clumsiness, made him feel even worse. All this time, Ignis had been trying to help him, trying to protect Prompto from himself. Now his house was trashed, his fingers bloodied stumps, and Prompto worse for the wear.

He wondered how long it would take him to limp to civilization or to his death. Surely Ignis wouldn’t let him stay here, especially after how he’d driven him to frenzy.

Prompto hobbled back into the bedroom- was this even a bedroom? There were no windows or mirrors.  He pressed his ear to the crack between the now-bent steel door and the doorframe. A warm gush of humid air seeped through the large opening and into Prompto’s ear.

If he hinged at the hip to look, there was a point where the door was so mangled that Prompto could see past it into the hallway. He took a deep breath before looking- he had no idea what he would see and didn’t even know if he  _ wanted _ to see it- and lowered himself to the gap.

“Ignis?” Prompto called through the opening timidly.

An emerald eye sparkled through the gap. “Prompto? Thank gods. You’re alright.”

“If you wanna call it that,” Prompto chuckled. He watched as Ignis’ intent stare softened. “You wanna tell me where I am?”

“You’re in my … lair, I suppose. Though _ I _ would simply call it my room,” Ignis said, bemused.

“Is it safe to open the door?”

“I presume you’ve cleaned up.”

“Yeah.”

“Then yes,” Ignis said wearily. Prompto hastily unlocked the massive deadbolt on the door before pulling weakly at its handle. Ignis’ ministrations had warped the metal beyond its normal function.

“Gonna need some help,” Prompto murmured, guilt twisting his innards once again. The man-  _ vampire-  _ on the other side of the door pushed it open easily. Prompto couldn’t help the gasp that slipped through his lips as Ignis collapsed to the floor.

Ignis was a bloody mess. Black blood had dried onto his skin in rivulets that striped his forearms and his neat shirt was now wrinkled, ripped, and stained with the same blackness his arms were. His carefully-sculpted coif of hair had gone astray and was plastered to his paper-white forehead.

Prompto crouched next to him and gently plucked a lock of hair that had entangled in his tawny eyelashes to tuck behind his ear. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered miserably.

Jade eyes flashed. “ _ You’re  _ sorry.”

Prompto nodded.

Ignis sighed, reaching to adjust his glasses before he realized they’d been lost somewhere in the chaos. “I very nearly killed you, and you’re sorry.”

“Yeah, I am. If it weren’t for me being a total idiot and knocking your glasses down, there wouldn’t a big mess and…” Prompto reached for Ignis’ hand and gingerly took it in his to behold his bloodied fingertips. “You wouldn’t have gotten so hurt.”

Ignis huffed, but Prompto could see the smile that was teasing at his lips. Dark circles encircled his verdant eyes. “I’ll be quite alright, thank you.”

“Can I help?” Prompto pleaded.

Ignis’ eyelids fluttered shut. “You are quite something, Prompto  _ Argentum. _ ”

“I’m serious,” Prompto whined, as he set his hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “What do you usually do after… after that?”

Sighing, Ignis put his hand over Prompto’s, sending a burst of warmth blossoming through the blonde. His eyes searched the ceiling as he pondered, as if the words he wanted were etched there somewhere in its cracks and chips. “After a frenzy I usually feed.”

Prompto bit his lip in apprehension. Ignis’ green eyes searched his face nervously as Prompto digested the words.  _ I usually feed. _

“So… you need blood.”

“Normally I can go without for some time, but when I lose my own I tend to get rather exhausted without sustenance.”

Prompto paused.

“Do you kill… y’know, your  _ dinners _ ?”

Ignis huffed. “Not always.”

Squirming in his kneeled position, Prompto barely uttered the words. “Then… feed from me.”

Ignis’ eyes widened and his head whipped over to look at Prompto. “Surely, you cannot be serious.”

Prompto winced before nodding.

Ignis sat up straight before leaning in close to Prompto. His gaze was heavy as it fell on him. Prompto swore he could feel darkened, emerald irises analyzing every feature of his face, looking for any sign of doubt. The smaller man inhaled and squeezed his eyes shut before whispering, “yes.”

“Why on Eos would you offer yourself to me?”

“Because… I dunno,” Prompto started. “You’ve helped me so much, Ignis. And then you go into a frenzy and rather than hurt me, you end up hurting yourself,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to Ignis’ bloodied hands and arms.

“I wanna take care of you like you’ve taken care of me,” Prompto whispered. He was even having trouble believing what he was saying, and wasn’t surprised that Ignis was looking at him with such disbelief. There was something pulling him, though, guiding him by the heartstrings. Though Ignis was a vampire, Prompto knew, deep in his heart, that Ignis was a caring, kind person, no matter the stigmas or stereotypes he faced.

He felt Ignis’ gentle grasp on his hand tighten, and as Prompto looked at him, he saw something new there in his green eyes; something soft and tender that made the warmth grow in his chest all over again.

“I thought you would run for the hills when you discovered my true nature,” Ignis breathed. “Yet here you are.”

“Here I am,” Prompto murmured, as his heart fluttered in his chest.

“Are you sure?” Ignis asked quietly.

Prompto turned his palm up toward Ignis’ and dared to lace his fingers. A bolt of delight shot through his heart as Ignis squeezed his hand. “Alright then,” he murmured. His pupils grew dark and deep as he stared. Prompto could feel the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention under Ignis’ attentive gaze.

“Bed,” Ignis muttered.

Prompto could feel the blood rush to his cheeks. “Bed? What-”

“You’ll be very tired after I drink from you. The least I can do is make you comfortable,” Ignis groaned as he tried to rise to his feet. Prompto caught him under the arm and helped him to the bed. The red light danced across his exposed pectorals and casted soft shadows on his musculature.

Prompto crawled up from the foot of the bed and laid on the soft, satin bedspread. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears; he was so nervous now that there was nothing left in the way of Ignis drinking from him. He wondered if he would feel it and if he did, would it hurt? Did vampires have some kind of anaesthetic in their bite? His mind swirled around the options until he felt dizzy.

“Are you alright?” Ignis asked. It was then that Prompto realized that Ignis was hovering over him, propped up on one elbow.

Prompto nodded quickly.

“I…” Ignis started, but the words fell short. Before Prompto could speak, Ignis’ lips, cold as ice and soft as velvet, pressed against his forehead in a kiss. “Thank you, Prompto.”

“G-get on with it,” Prompto stuttered. He was fairly certain that even in the red light of the lamps, Ignis could see the flush painted clearly across his face, and if he couldn’t see it then he could surely  _ feel _ the heat of his blood coursing beneath his skin.

Ignis chuckled. “Very well then.”

Prompto turned his head to the side, baring the freckled column of his neck to Ignis. As he looked at him, he could see the flash in his eyes and the flush of blackness across his once-green irises. Ignis licked his lips and rolled them between his teeth before lowering his mouth to Prompto’s neck.

“You smell  _ delicious _ ,” he whispered.

Prompto inhaled sharply as Ignis’ lips made contact with his neck; the coolness of them made him shiver from his head to his toes. Ignis chuckled a dark, sultry laugh before Prompto felt his tongue dart between his lips to lap at the salty skin.

“Oh, you taste delicious, too.”

Ignis licked and sucked at Prompto’s neck with abandon, coating the skin in wetness from his tongue. An odd tingling sensation creeped across the wetted flesh that was more than pleasant. Prompto whimpered as Ignis traced his tongue from the dip of his clavicle to the corner of his jaw.

Ecstasy seeped through his body slowly like water oozing across the page. Every nook and cranny of him seemed to fill with it as Ignis sank his teeth into the creamy skin of his neck. The sensation was so incredible that Prompto could feel his toes curling against the satin and his hands grabbing fistfuls of it at his sides.

Every sip only concentrated the pleasure. Prompto surely thought he would burst from the intensity. Ignis drank from him slowly as he suckled at his skin hungrily. A hum rippled through his throat, vibrating in his lips and mouth and teeth and surely if he didn’t kill Prompto then he would die from the pleasure of being drank from.

A strangled moan escaped his throat, to which Ignis responded enthusiastically. He bit down on Prompto’s neck so hard the blonde was sure he would leave bruises. The world was spinning and Prompto didn’t know if it was from the pleasure of Ignis’ bite or the fact that he was losing blood, and frankly, he didn’t care. Ignis’ hand settled low on Prompto’s torso as he drew one last drink from him.

Prompto whimpered as Ignis extracted his teeth from him. “Sh, darling, you did so well,” Ignis murmured before pressing the blade of his tongue to the puncture wounds in Prompto’s skin. The blonde shivered under Ignis’ ministrations as he sucked and licked gently at his neck until the wounds closed.

“Ig...nis…” Prompto whimpered feebly. Ignis merely shushed him as he pulled the blankets from underneath his body. Prompto felt as if he were made of lead; how he would move,  talk, or even  _ breathe _ after such an exhilarating, exhausting experience was beyond him.

Thankfully, Ignis seemed to know what to do. He tucked Prompto in carefully, burying his body in blankets that he’d left folded at the foot of the bed. The soft, warm cocoon that Ignis had made him seemed to ease his trembling, though nothing stopped the rocking motion of the world around him.

“Do you need anything?” Ignis said quietly as he brushed the hair from Prompto’s forehead.

Prompto shook his head. “You’re so good at this,” he muttered sleepily. “Does this happen a lot?”

Ignis eyes fell as he laid beside Prompto. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to see alive at the end of it.”

“Well then. That’s good,” Prompto said with a smile as he turned his head to face Ignis.

“You’re a bit delusional, love,” Ignis whispered, his eyes bright and dazzling, just as they were before.

“Nah. Not at all,” Prompto said with a yawn.

“Sleep,” Ignis murmured.

The word had barely slipped past Ignis’ lips before Prompto passed out.


	3. it enfolds you in its arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chocosand and Shoob made some GREAT stuff for this story which you can find on my tumblr @tinyconfectionary. I'm gonna link it all at the end of the epilogue for you to enjoy if you wanna wait until then!!

“Ignis?”

“Yes?” he asked. He was sitting with Prompto on an old, leather couch in the parlor. This room was Prompto’s favorite in the whole house; long, picture mirrors framed one wall, their long, lacy, black black curtains pulled over them, making it just dim enough for Ignis to be comfortable. The opposite wall was lined with books on bookshelves that grew straight up to the ceiling. A piano sat in the corner; this was the piano Prompto guessed that Ignis played late at night when he thought Prompto was asleep.

“Do you play the piano?”

He felt Ignis freeze up at his side. The smooth musculature of his abdomen grew rigid against Prompto’s arm. He tried to tell himself they weren’t cuddling- vampires weren’t  _ cuddly _ \- but it sure felt like it. With Ignis’ arm draped over his shoulder and their bodies pressed together while Prompto dozed, it certainly felt like more than just innocent touching.

“Whatever would give you that idea?” Ignis asked, far too innocent for his own good.

“I hear you sometimes. At night,” Prompto murmured, wriggling into Ignis’ side experimentally. To his delight, Ignis persisted, allowing the smaller man to press into his side. He found that he relished the coolness of Ignis’ body pressed against his own, and wondered if Ignis felt the same about his own body heat.

Ignis hummed noncommittally as his eyes scanned the page of the book that laid open in his lap. It was propped against his calf, which he draped over his knee elegantly. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I told you it was a ghost.”

Prompto leaned away from Ignis, only so that he could look at him incredulously. Prompto didn’t believe in ghosts, of course. Then again, he didn’t believe in vampires, either and then… well, here he was, in a decrepit Victorian manor cuddling with an incredibly handsome vampire.

Either he’d really lost it, or this was a very sweet dream he wasn’t sure he wanted to wake up from.

Ignis laughed at Prompto’s narrowed eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Ignis teased. “But it’s true. Well, somewhat. I  _ do _ play. But he enjoys playing, as well.”

Prompto bit his lips as he rocked forward on his knees. The fabric of Ignis’ dress shirt, which was far too big on him, billowed forward and open. The vampire’s eyes travelled from Prompto’s eyes down the opening of his shirt before coming to rest on the fading puncture wounds on the left side of his neck. 

This look wasn’t unfamiliar at this point. It had been four days since Ignis’ frenzy. Four days since he’d fed from Prompto and turned his whole world upside down. They’d gone from captive and captor to awkward friends to something  _ more. _ Instead of lamenting his dingy apartment and shitty freelance job in Insomnia, Prompto found himself growing more and more comfortable with the idea of  _ staying _ , though he’d never admit it to Ignis, who surely didn’t want a roommate after gods knew how many years of solitude.

Still, there were so many things pointing to the opposite. Ignis’ gentle touch at his back or the underside of his wrist. Lingering looks with dark eyes that seemed to follow the shiny scars on his neck and the plush curve of his lips as he spoke. The fact that Ignis still carried Prompto around the house, though his ankle was on the mend.

And the feedings. Prompto didn’t want to say out loud just how much he  _ wanted  _ to be fed from again. The incredible pleasure that Ignis’ teeth, sunk deep in his throat, brought to him was mind-bending. Prompto knew it was more than that though; he craved Ignis’ touch, the soft suckle at his neck, and chilly fingers closing in on him.

“Show me,” Prompto said defiantly.

Ignis smirked. “Alright then.”

He crossed the room to the ancient grand piano and lifted its lid, propping it open to reveal the hammers and strings. Its midnight surface shined brightly, but Prompto knew it had to be decades old. It made him wonder how old Ignis was.

Ignis drew the stool from the piano and perched on it elegantly before cracking his fingers and setting them on the keys. It was only a moment before he began to play. This song was different from the melody Prompto had heard night after night; the new song was whimsical, light, happy, even. Prompto watched as long, slender fingers danced across ivory and ebony.

“Beautiful,” Prompto murmured. “What song is it?”

“Doesn’t have a name,” Ignis said simply, as his hands moved across the keys with a flourish. “It’s not one I play often.”

“I like it,” Prompto replied.

“Somehow, I knew you would.” Ignis said to Prompto. Then, very clearly not speaking to his companion, Ignis called out, “Are you ready?”

Ignis rolled away from the keys, though the song kept playing. The melody picked up the pace until it was cantering along at ¾ time. Prompto watched, amazed, as the keys kept plunking as if Ignis were still pressing them.

“What…”

His tall, slender companion stepped in front of him, offering a hand. “Dance with me.”

“Right now?” Prompto says, looking down at his odd garb- his clothes were in the wash, leaving him to wear Ignis’ old dress shirt, along with a pair of socks and his boxers- and then back up at Ignis skeptically.

“When will you ever get the chance to dance with a vampire to the tune of a haunted piano?” Ignis says with a smirk.

_ Every day, if you’ll let me. _

“I dunno,” Prompto says with a small smile. “I don’t even know how.”

Ignis takes Prompto’s hand in his before setting his other hand on Prompto’s waist. The blonde rests his free hand on Ignis’ shoulder before looking up at him timidly; the taller man is practically radiating delight with a slight smile that speaks volumes of his joy. He urges Prompto to stand just a bit closer before whisking him into a waltz.

Prompto knows he would probably fall flat on his face if it weren’t for Ignis’ steady hands guiding him effortlessly across the polished wood floor of the parlor. The man moved with enough confidence for the two of them and by the end of the song, Prompto felt like he was nearly gliding with his dance partner. A smile blossomed on his face as he closed his eyes and took it in: the soft, joyful music, the magic of the moment, the thrill of touching and being touched.

The song barely ended before it erupted into something loud and flashy in a time signature Prompto couldn’t keep up with. Socked feet slipped out from underneath him and Prompto thought he was going down on that hard, cold floor until Ignis quickly clutched him to his chest.

“You will  _ behave _ ,” he growled at the piano.

There was a clamor of odd keys clashing and Ignis merely stared at the instrument with a raised brow before something softer, something sweeter- even more so than the first song- played.

“Much better, thank you,” Ignis said.

Prompto couldn’t help but laugh at his companion. “You two have known each other a long time, huh?”

Ignis looked at him wryly as he resumed the same position as before for the waltz and Prompto couldn’t help but wonder what steps he would have to learn this time. Thankfully, Ignis just stayed in one place, gently swaying to the music as Prompto clung to him. “A hundred years, almost,” he whispered, looking at the piano forlornly.

“How old are you, Ignis?” Prompto asked quietly.

He could feel Ignis’ body softening against his, pulling him closer as they danced. For a moment, he thought Ignis wouldn’t answer, that he’d done something wrong by asking. He could feel Ignis’ cheek rest against his head and a sigh echo through him.

“One hundred and three.”

“Can I ask?” Prompto mumbled.

“About what?”

“How it happened, how you changed,” Prompto said softly. Ignis’ hand tightened around his as they swayed together, moving as one. There was no space left between them as their bodies brushed together, the buttons of their shirts snagging on one another’s, hot and cool mixing and playing on their skin. Prompto tilted his head toward Ignis as the weight of his cheek continued to rest against the crown of his head.

“It’s a rather sad story,” Ignis murmured.

“That’s okay,” Prompto assured.

“Have you ever heard of Ignis Scientia?” Ignis asked quietly.

Prompto paused for a moment, as he searched his memory. “He… he was a famous pianist, right?” Prompto gasped. “Like a hundred years ago, and then he just dropped off the map.”

“Exactly,” Ignis murmured.

“Was that you? What happened?” Prompto asked.

“It was me,” Ignis answered somberly. “It’s hard to say whether I’m that person anymore. I… I had met someone. Another pianist, actually. After playing a short career, filled with competitiveness and contempt, meeting another player who wanted camaraderie, company… It was new. Nice, I suppose.”

They were hardly moving now, as they stood there in the large, empty space of the parlor. The sun had set below the horizon, encompassing them in a dim, golden light that persisted through the lacy black curtains. It glimmered in the jade ripples of Ignis’ irises as he stared and Prompto’s eyes followed his narrowing pupils.

“So he brought me here. We shared the night together. I thought there was something there, as I drifted off to sleep. That was the last time I ever truly slept, for when I woke… I was like this. Filled with a burning, searing pain, and an incredible thirst for blood.”

Prompto said nothing as he slipped his arms around Ignis’ waist and held him in his arms. As he lowered his head to Ignis’ chest, the exposed skin chilling his cheek, there was no sound, no heart moving in an endless rhythm. Prompto’s heart ached for the man; he’d never heard a sadder, more bittersweet story.

“When he told me what he’d done, I was enraged. He’d turned me to end my career- a young vampire  _ cannot _ be around humans. Their frenzy is uncontrollable. You’ve seen how bad it can be,” Ignis said, as he bit his lower lip between his teeth. “I was so  _ angry _ . Vicious, even. Betrayed by a friend, a lover, a colleague.”

“In my disdain I tore his throat out,” Ignis said so quietly that Prompto could barely hear him. “I could never forgive myself. He’s here now, haunting me. Always has been,” Ignis said, his voice thick and uneven, as he gestured to the piano. “I suppose I deserve it, for what I’ve done.”

The piano continued playing slowly and sweetly even though the two had stopped moving. Prompto held Ignis securely in his arms, head against chest, listening to Ignis’ smooth tenor rumble as he confessed. His hands danced idly over the smooth, soft surface of Ignis’ shirt and over the muscles planes of his back.

“I haven’t allowed myself near anyone else. Only to hunt.”

An awful feeling began to creep into Prompto’s belly like a vine twisting around a pole. “So when you found me, you weren’t saving me.”

Prompto dared to look and found Ignis distraught, pursing his lips, furrowing his brow, with absolute agony in his eyes. Green met violet and Prompto knew that whatever Ignis had meant, whatever his intention when they first met was no longer the case. 

“You must believe me when I tell you that I had changed my mind long before you allowed me to drink from you,” Ignis pleaded. He gripped Prompto’s forearms tightly as he stared down into his eyes. “You told me your name, I looked into your eyes, and I knew. I knew that it was impossible for me to take even an inch of your life.”

“Ignis, Ignis,” Prompto said, touching the ivory skin of his cheek. “I know. I believe you. I trust you.”

“So foolish to do so, you know,” Ignis said bitterly. “To trust something like me.”

“ _ Someone _ like you,” Prompto said sternly. “Ignis, what happened is a century old. Look,” Prompto said, taking both of Ignis’ hands in his. Most of fingertips were bruised and marred beyond recognition; though the vampire healed faster than Prompto did, the damage he had done to himself was severe. “Don’t you think this deserves trust?”

“Prompto…” Ignis breathed, his voice heavy with doubt.

“No! Ignis. Stop.” Prompto commanded, taking Ignis’ face in his hands- he almost wanted to smile at that, for he knew Ignis’ strength far surpassed his own, and if he didn’t want to be guided, he wouldn’t- and looked him straight in the eye. “You’re a good person. I know it.”

Ignis’ eyes wracked his face, searching, inquiring, for any sign of doubt. Prompto held firm and steady under his scrutinizing gaze as he cradled his face in his hands. His heart was thumping in his chest like a timpani drum; he could almost hear it in his ears and wondered if Ignis could hear it too, if somehow his predatory senses could hear the thunder of life within him.

“You really do mean it,” Ignis murmured.

Prompto whispered back, “I do.”

“Say it again?”

“You’re a good person.”

“I can’t-”

“Come here,” Prompto said, as he slid his hands to the nape of Ignis’ neck; he could feel the veins, the arteries pressing into his palms, cold and dead and void of life, as Ignis willingly obeyed him. As his flawless, porcelain face grew near, Prompto could see the trepidation, the fear as clearly as he saw his own blood on Ignis’ mouth that fateful day. 

Ignis’ lips were just as velvety soft against his own as they were pressed against the curve of his neck. The first kiss was chaste, tender, timid, almost. As much confidence and want as there was in Prompto, there was equal amount of fear in Ignis, and Prompto could almost taste it on his icy lips.

“Iggy,” Prompto whispered encouragingly, to which Ignis replied with the slightest curl of a smile in his lips. Chilly hands snaked through his hair and into the dip of his lower back as Ignis pulled him into a deeper kiss; the scrape of his teeth against Prompto’s lower lip sent a shiver down his spine.

Prompto stood on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around Ignis’ neck as he parted his lips. The vampire responded readily with his tongue, probing at Prompto’s mouth as they kissed. The heel of Ignis’ hand pressed into his lower back, urging him to press his body against his. Prompto felt as if he was swept up in a wave, sucked under the tide of disbelief, of astonishment at Ignis’ enthusiasm that washed over him.

“Up,” Ignis grunted against Prompto’s mouth as his hands moved to the smaller man’s hips and lifted gently. The blonde obliged, hopping up into Ignis’ arms as they kissed feverishly; hot and cold, life and death, ying and yang came colliding together in the force of their lips colliding. Prompto couldn’t help but shudder with anticipation each time Ignis’ tongue passed between his lips.

The soft piano music echoed down the hallway after them as Ignis kept one hand on Prompto’s ass, holding him up against his body and the other on the wall as he felt his way down the hall and toward the stairs. Prompto locked his ankles behind Ignis’ slender, strong waist as he kissed a line from his lips to his jaw.

When he kissed over Ignis’ jugular, a deep, throaty growl escaped the vampire. “Yes,” he rumbled, “Prompto, please.”

Ghosting his lips over the pale column of Ignis’ neck elicited a delightful trembling that Prompto found he couldn’t resist. He wanted so much  _ more _ , wanted to feel his body moving against his in other instinctive ways, wanted to feel nothing barring them from each other. Parting his lips, he sucked gently at the soft, perfect skin. Something told him he couldn’t leave a bruise; he didn’t think Ignis  _ could _ bruise, not in his particular condition, but it didn’t stop Prompto from sinking his teeth into his lover anyway.

Ignis collapsed into the wall beside them, clinging tightly to Prompto. His crushing strength pressed the air from his lungs, made him gasp for more into his lover’s delicate skin. He smelled of oak and honey; Prompto hadn’t expected Ignis to taste so sweet or to smell so good. The aroma, the lack of oxygen,  _ Ignis _ , it all made his head spin gleefully out of control.

Prompto fumbled with the buttons of Ignis’ shirt, slipping out of Ignis’ arms to kiss every single inch of perfect, porcelain skin as it was revealed by each emptied buttonhole. He followed the silky, smooth trail of skin down Ignis’ stomach until the last button was undone and Ignis could shrug his shirt off his shoulders, dropping it on the broken bannister of the staircase.

Taking him by the hand, Prompto led Ignis down the rest of the stairs and toward the steel door at the end of the hallway. The red light of the narrow room painted their pale skin pink to match the blush of their cheeks and gleamed brilliantly in Ignis’ eyes as Prompto looked at him. He laid his back flush against the crumpled, warped steel and shut his eyes as Ignis leaned in to steal a tender kiss.

“Are you sure?” he asked warily. Prompto could hear the trepidation in his voice; the quality of his was roughened by his fear, and Prompto wanted to soften it, smooth it, like wrinkles in fabric. 

The blonde stood on his tiptoes to meet Ignis in a sure, steady kiss, before whispering, “I’ve never wanted anything more than this. More than you.”

“More than me,” Ignis whispered.

“All that you are,” Prompto murmured. “Everything. Even the scary parts.”

Ignis chuckled. “Prompto Argentum.”

“Ignis Scientia.”

“You’re quite something.”

“So are you,” Prompto purred, wrapping his arms around Ignis’ neck. He hummed as Ignis lifted him once again, kissing his neck and cheek. After all of the tumultuous events of the past week, Prompto had never expected such tenderness, such softness. Ignis had been so hardened by his hardships. 

Prompto didn’t know that when he finally cracked Ignis’ impossibly hard shell that there would be such sweet softness within. He wanted to protect it, foster it like a delicate flower bud, and watch it blossom into something fantastically beautiful.

He breathed his name as Ignis pushed the door open and carried him inside the darkened room. Prompto felt the mattress’ soft surface at his back before the door’s hinges wailed as Ignis shut it, cloaking the room in absolute darkness. He could feel his heart beat even harder; in the blackness that swallowed him, he had never been more aware or more sure of his want and affection for Ignis.

“It’s okay, love,” Ignis crooned into the darkness. Surely he could hear Prompto’s racing heart. “We can stop, it’s alright.”

“No!” Prompto gasped, reaching out into darkness. He simply needed to feel him, to know that he was there by his side. “I need you, Iggy.”

“I’m right here,” Ignis said softly. His fingers interlaced with Prompto’s, pulling him forward, encouraging him to sit at the edge of the bed. He could hear the fabric of Ignis’ pants move and crease before he felt Ignis’ forearms come to rest on the bare skin of his thighs. 

Prompto assumed he must be kneeling before him somewhere in the darkness. Broad, nimble hands closed around his waist before cool lips touched his own and travelled south. Ignis dragged his mouth along freckled skin, pausing at the juncture of his neck and shoulder to kiss the sensitive marks he’d left behind. Prompto shuddered at the memory of such intense pleasure as Ignis’ lips paused there to suck gently.

“Ignis,” he whined.

His lover cupped the back of his head to hold him in place so he could curl his tongue against the risen, warm skin. Prompto’s lips parted and his head lolled into Ignis’ palm as fingernails set into the soft flesh of his thigh and fangs barely scraped the marks in his neck.

“Not yet,” Ignis murmured, and Prompto wasn’t sure if he was speaking to him, or himself. Still, his lips stayed anchored to the pulse below and the blonde could feel every heartbeat press against the thin layer of skin separating his very life from Ignis. He couldn’t help but cling to him.

“You’re beautiful,” Ignis purred, kissing down the column of Prompto’s neck. He could feel the tips of fangs sink into his skin as he swallowed thickly. A tongue chased after to lick at the blood that welled in the tiny punctures and Ignis trembled, Prompto’s name passing from his lips as delicately as a breath.

Ignis pressed his face against Prompto’s chest; he could feel the cold shell of his ear sink into the supple flesh of his pectoral. “Can you hear it?” Prompto whispered as Ignis’ hand closed around his hip, holding him tight.

“I can feel it, I can  _ sense  _ it. Your heart… it calls to me,” Ignis murmured, his voice thick and heady. Prompto shuddered as he sucked what was sure to be a dark mark into him. Ignis kissed the bruise before making another, and another. Each one was nothing more than a tease; under careful lips and tongue, Prompto could feel himself falling apart beneath them.

“There’s no sound sweeter than its beating,” Ignis whispered, grazing a fang gingerly over Prompto’s heart.

He wanted nothing more than for Ignis to sink his teeth in, to taste him, to  _ take  _ him in the blindness of the dark where there was safety and security in his lover’s embrace, which Prompto knew was more than a little ironic. With a single bite, Ignis could end his life and Prompto was well aware of how close his hungry lover toed the line with each kiss, every bite and suck at his freckled skin.

A tremble that coursed through the body pressed between his thighs, anchored to his chest, reminded him of that fact. Careful trepidation could be felt in every single touch the vampire bestowed upon his lithe body. Ignis worshipped his chest as if it was a holy vessel for his lifeforce.

Gentle kisses trailed from his heart down his arm to the soft juncture of his wrist and hand. Prompto had never been as aware of his heartbeat as he was then, but there, with a kiss pressed against such sensitive flesh with Ignis’ weapons of choice lying in wait behind plush lips...

His life had never been so precious. Not just to him, but to someone else. Prompto could feel his heart begin to race at the thought and Ignis inhaled sharply in response. “Prompto… try to stay calm, darling,” he said softly against the soft skin of his wrist. “Lie down and relax.”

Prompto squirmed back onto the mattress to rest on the pile of pillows at the head of the bed. A gentle light flickered to life suddenly, casting the room in a warm, golden hue. Ignis stood beside the bed with a small candle.

“Come here,” Prompto said, patting the soft, satin bedspread, beckoning his lover back to him. Ignis shuffled in a drawer for a moment before returning with something small clenched in his fist; whatever it was, Prompto didn’t have a chance to see it before Ignis’ lips were closing on his again in a tender kiss.

“You’re sure,” Ignis said doubtfully, his voice raspy with want.

“I’m sure,” Prompto whispered happily, his lips dancing over Ignis’ with every syllable. 

Ignis settling on top of him seemed to rob him of air; Prompto wasn’t sure if it was merely the larger man pressing him into the mattress or the weight of the situation itself. There was a thrill there, lingering among the tender buds of affection, knowing that this was Ignis, knowing that there was nothing left but the two of them and the promise of what was to come. Each kiss seemed to draw a little more from him until his mind was spinning in a haze of want.

Violet hues fixed on Ignis as he stripped them both of their underwear with haste. He watched Ignis’ eyes drink in the soft, slender planes of his body, lingering on every freckle and mark. The vampire traced the path of his eyes with his hands, travelling from Prompto’s heart to his wrists, and then to the inside of his thighs.

Prompto could feel the heat leech from the inside of his thighs as Ignis kissed them passionately. His tongue darted between his lips, licking and tasting his lover’s freckled flesh. The blonde could feel his heartbeat against the firm pressure of Ignis’ tongue. Knowing that Ignis was tasting him, feeling him, sensing the life thrumming through his body only made it beat faster.

Ignis seemed to want to take his time with him by how he languidly kissed his way up Prompto’s body. He paused to take a nipple between his lips; the blonde bucked his hips at the sensation of Ignis’ cool, wet mouth closing on his warm flesh. His lover grazed the hard peak teasingly with his teeth and their sharp points pricked the skin in a way that stole Prompto’s breath.

“Ignis,” Prompto panted, sinking his fingernails into Ignis’ perfect skin.

“Yes?” Ignis asked, almost innocently.

“Please,” Prompto breathed. “Can you…”

Ignis smiled at him, his emerald irises warm with affection, as he swooped down for a kiss. Prompto wrapped his arms around his neck, holding him close; he needed him there, anchored against his body, aching for more just as much as he did. 

Cool, slick fingers pressed against his entrance and the sensation was shocking as much as it was arousing. The chill of Ignis’ fingertips was far from unpleasant, and as one sank into him, Prompto shivered.

“Your fingers-” Prompto started.

“Merely a bruise, by now, darling, I’ll be fine,” Ignis said, his voice low, as he slipped a second finger inside down to the knuckle. He buried his face in Prompto’s neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin just below his ear as he scissored his fingers inside of him.

He moaned as Ignis bumped his fingers against the bundle of nerves buried deep inside of him and squirmed against the pressure. Ignis’ ministrations were slightly clumsy; it brought Prompto some comfort to know that the suave vampire that had won him over was so much more human now than he ever dreamed he would be and loved him all the more for it.

“Want you, please,” Prompto mewled, bucking his hips into Ignis’ greedy fingers as they touched and stroked at his prostate again.

“As you wish,” Ignis murmured, turning his head to kiss Prompto’s cheek as he slipped his fingers out from inside him. It was only a moment before the pressure of Ignis’ hardness pushing into his core made Prompto writhe and scramble for the man above him.

Ignis laced his fingers with Prompto’s as he pinned his hands against the mattress, eyelashes fluttering shut over his green eyes as he sunk into him. Plush, pink lips rolled between his teeth as he continued on until he was buried to the hilt in Prompto’s heat.

“Gods,” Ignis whispered, keeping his eyes shut tight. He paused before moving again, slowly, surely, in and out of Prompto, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Hey,” Prompto murmured, touching his cheek. “Hey, look at me.”

“I can’t,” Ignis groaned, shivering as he plunged inside of his lover again.

“Ignis.”

His eyes opened and fell upon Prompto’s violet visage, revealing crimson irises. It wasn’t like before, when Ignis’ face transformed into something hideous and terrifying. No, the eyes that stared back at him were hungry, lusty, even, and as his lips fell open to gasp from the pressure of Prompto’s fluttering muscles, the blonde could see sharpened, elongated fangs.

“I don’t care,” Prompto whispered reassuringly. “I want all of you, remember?”

“I might not be able to help myself,” Ignis said with a groan. “And I don’t wish to feed from you if you don’t want it.”

Prompto reached up to entangle his arms around Ignis’ once again, inviting the vampire to nestle his face in the crook of his neck where four perfect, circular scars laid in his skin. “Feed from me,” he whispered. “I wanna feel  _ all  _ of you.”

“Prompto,” Ignis moaned, picking up a more fervent pace as he slipped his arms underneath Prompto’s petite frame to hold him close.

“Everything, Ignis, please,” Prompto begged, as he tilted his head and bared his neck to his lover.

Eyes rolled back in his head as Ignis laved his neck with his tongue; the tingling sensation of his saliva coating his skin was a welcome feeling. Prompto rocked his hips up into Ignis’ thrusts as he sucked at his neck. The anticipation of the pleasure of being drank from sent a flurry of goosebumps forming across his body.

“Do you want new scars, or for me to use the old ones?” Ignis asked, grinning salaciously at him as he delivered a particularly powerful thrust into Prompto.

“New, new, please, Iggy,” Prompto cried.

Ignis answered with his teeth as he sunk them into Prompto’s neck. Like a pen pressed to a page, ecstasy seeped into him slowly and deeply. Ignis rooted himself deeply inside of him, pausing to drink deeply from his lover before driving into him again. Prompto sighed and wrapped his legs around Ignis’ hips, holding on tightly.

Ignis’ teeth and lips stayed anchored to Prompto’s neck; between every thrust, he would drink with small sips, punctuating each movement of his hips with a small burst of pleasure. Prompto closed his eyes tight as he relished the sensation. His head began to spin both from pleasure and loss of blood.

They clung to each other in their moment of heated bliss. Prompto’s fist curled in Ignis’ ashy blond locks, urging him on to drink his lifeforce, to taste and feel him inside and out. He didn’t realize how much he’d craved this, craved him, craved the fine line they danced together between life and death. Ignis being inside him only made the dance that much sweeter.

“Ignis!” Prompto cried, as the vampire thrust into him with force. He wasn’t sure what was driving him closer to the edge of the precipice: Ignis’ body buried deeply in his own, or his teeth, piercing creamy, freckled flesh, savoring his very life. 

It wasn’t long now. As much as he tried to cling to the sweet, sweet moment before his climax, Ignis wouldn’t allow him to hover in a euphoric haze but for a second. Withdrawing his teeth from Prompto’s neck, he closed his lips over the wounds and massaged them with his tongue as his hand found his way to Prompto’s weeping hardness trapped between their bodies.

With the feeling of Ignis' hand closing on his erection and his tongue working over the wounds in his neck, Prompto nearly sobbed as his orgasm rocked his dizzy mind. He clawed at Ignis' back as his lover worked him through his ecstasy.

Ignis wasn't far behind; as his orgasm spilled into Prompto's heat, the cold chill of his release made Prompto shiver. The vampire's teeth were in his flesh once again, taking one long, last drink as he chased his own pleasure. Prompto bucked his hips, whimpering for relief from the intense pleasure as Ignis ran his tongue over the new wounds to seal them and licked his lips.

Prompto shuddered as Ignis' softening member slipped away from his heat. "Are you alright?" Ignis asked, his voice soft and breathy, as he kissed Prompto's temple.

"More than," he answered, kissing Ignis' lips. The faint, coppery tang of blood was barely a whisper on his lover's tongue. Languid, loving kisses were shared between the two as they basked in the afterglow.

"Let me clean you up, and we'll rest," Ignis said, rising from the bed and making his way to the bathroom.

As he listened to Ignis run the tap, waiting for his ancient plumbing to heat the water to an adequate temperature, his mind wandered. His ankle had healed, there was no reason for him to stay. Soon, he'd be thrust back into his dreary, normal life. An ache seized in his heart. Two weeks ago he would've been more than happy to go, but that thought was merely a memory.

Now he wanted to stay. There wasn't anything left for him in the real world. He almost laughed, thinking of it that way, when everything here was so more more real, so much more filling and worthwhile, than this. Than Ignis.

His lover had returned with a warm, damp cloth, which he used to clean the release that had splattered across Prompto's abdomen. The blonde smiled at him as he sighed a happy, contented sigh. Ignis' smile in return was soft and warm.

"For a man who just lost a fair amount of blood, you look happy," Ignis said, chuckling.

"C'mere," Prompto said, reaching out with a hand. Ignis took it as he crawled onto the bed and beneath the sheets to cradle Prompto's body against his own. "I'm  _ so _ happy, Ignis."

"As am I. Never did I think that when I went out for a meal, I'd find..."

"I know," Prompto replied, tightening his grip on Ignis hand and tilting his head back to lay it on Ignis' shoulder. "Iggy..."

"What is it?"

"I don't want to leave," Prompto whispered. "I know you said I'd go when I got better, and I am now, but..."

Ignis sighed. "Don't you want to go back to your life? Friends, family. Something fulfilling."

Prompto's laugh in return was icy, almost. "Not really. My parents died when I was young and the Glaives aren’t exactly friends.”

Ignis stayed quiet. Instead of speaking, he snaked his arms around Prompto, holding him tightly against his chest.

"I wanna stay here with you, Ignis. As long as you'll let me."

"Surely you don't mean..." Ignis scoffed, as Prompto rolled over to face him. There was apprehension glinting in his jade eyes.

"Turn me."

  
  
  
  


The vampire tugged the beanie he wore on his head further down over his ears so their pointed tips were obscured. Though it was the middle of the night, Insomnia itself was a pulsing, thriving city teeming with people and life. The streets were crowded despite the late hour and Prompto clung to his companion with a hand tucked firmly in the crook of Ignis’ elbow.

“So many people,” Ignis said, watching the crowds carefully.

“Yep.”

“Won’t you miss the comfort of the city?” Ignis asked, peering down at Prompto. “Life is in every corner here.”

“Stop,” Prompto said, pulling on Ignis’ arm.

“Right here?” Ignis said, glancing at the people that swarmed past them. Prompto stared at him as they stood silently, observing the mass of people moving like ants. Mindlessly, they moved from destination to destination, fumbling and bumping into one another.

After a few people had cursed at them, telling them to move in less eloquent words, Ignis frowned. “They’re rather unpleasant.”

“Tell me about it,” Prompto said with a smirk. He took Ignis by the elbow again and steered him off in a different direction. “Let’s go to my apartment.”

Prompto was almost embarrassed to let Ignis into his tiny place. Where Ignis lived in a huge manor, with so many rooms Prompto still hadn’t seen them all, the blonde lived in a studio apartment. He didn’t even have his own bathroom; there was a community one shared at the end of the hall, which usually existed in a state of cleanliness between barely acceptable and horrific.

The studio itself was small. A tiny twin bed lay on the floor, crammed against the wall beneath the window. Beside it, a little, green card table stood with a single chair. A rack of clothes took up the rest of the remaining wall space that wasn’t occupied by a few cupboards and a small refrigerator, one that Prompto was almost taller than. There were still dishes in the sink- clean, thank goodness- but dirty laundry scattered the floor and his laptop was wedged between the mattress and his pillow.

Ignis merely stood there and stared at the tiny space. “This is where you live?” he said quietly.

“Can’t afford much else, unless I wanna move out of the city, and if I do that then I can’t find any work,” Prompto explained, nudging an empty box with his toe.

Ignis sat on the corner of mattress. The faded sheets with the holes in the corners and the clothes strewn about contrasted the nearly-perfect composition of  _ Ignis _ , with his delicately crossed legs and perfectly-pressed shirt. Prompto's past and future seemed to collide so drastically; though Ignis wasn't as sure of his place in the blond's future, Prompto was.

He knew that there was nothing left for him with humanity. The shackles of his mortality were only holding him back now from being with the man he loved so dearly. Ignis seemed to be aware of this as his crestfallen eyes took in the sad sight of what was waiting for Prompto back in Insomnia, back with humans.

"What do you do for work?" he asked quietly.

"I'm a photographer. Freelance, mostly." Prompto said, taking the camera that was dangling from its strap off a hook by the door and handing it to Ignis. He watched emerald eyes flicker from image to image in the digital display on the back.

"These are spectacular," Ignis murmured. "you have an eye."

"Thanks," Prompto said. "I went to school for it, but kinda screwed myself over with loans. Hence the whole..."

He gestured to the room around him in all its dingy glory.

"I see," Ignis said quietly. Prompto could see the thoughts flying through his brain behind green eyes. He was almost sure Ignis was convinced after only a few moments of being here. "I'm just not sure. I'm not sure if I wish to subject you to... this. To my life, if you want to call it that."

"Ignis," Prompto said, kneeling before Ignis, taking his hands in his. "I want it. I want you. Don't you think it'll be better if we're together?"

" _ Gods, yes _ ," Ignis said emphatically, simply, as if it were fact. Prompto's heart thrummed in his chest and Ignis laughed at him. "I can hear your excitement, darling."

"Let me have this," Prompto murmured. "Turn me. Let’s be happy, Ignis.”

Ignis sighed as he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Prompto's lips. "There's just one thing left to do, then."

"What's that?" Prompto asked excitedly.

"Watch your last sunrise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [SU DREW ART FOR THIS FIC GO LOOK AT IT AND LOVE HER](http://chocosand.tumblr.com/post/179102858206/i-had-to-draw-this-for-tinyconfectionary-her%22)


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: This chapter is gory. I go into detail (do you hear me? a lot of fucking detail) about the process and transformation of turning into a vampire. It's not pleasant. If it squicks you, skip to the last scene. EDIT: Some people have pointed out to me that it's really not that bad, but im leaving the warning, because better safe than sorry.**
> 
>  
> 
> WOW It's over and I still can't believe it. This story has been SO much fun to write and I'm so so so eternally grateful to everyone who's read it, and most of all for my dear friend SuWan <3 I love you and you deserve more. Maybe someday I can write you another <3

“You’re absolutely sure,” Ignis asked.

“Iggy,” Prompto whined. “I’ve been sure for six months.”

“And I am just trying to be certain that you wish to  _ die _ ,” Ignis said with a sigh. He propped himself up on his elbow as he laid down across the satin bedspread next to Prompto. The dancing light of a nearby candle illuminated his soft, pale skin that contrasted beautifully with the black satin. His ashy blonde hair cascaded across his forehead in a messy way that Prompto was absolutely smitten with.

“I’m dying to be with you, Iggy,” Prompto said dramatically, clasping his hands over his heart and flopping back onto the mattress. He cackled excitedly at the enormous eyeroll he received in return for his theatrics.

“You’re terrible,” Ignis purred, pulling Prompto close for a kiss.

“And you love it.”

“I do. I adore it, really.”

“I love you too, Iggy,” Prompto said with a smile.

Ignis sighed as he kissed Prompto again and again. “I’ll miss your warm lips,” he murmured as he skated a palm over Prompto’s stomach.

“And your warm skin,” he whispered as he kissed a line to the deep, shining scars in the side of Prompto’s neck. There were dozens of tiny marks, some a darker red, others nearly faded, all a result of becoming Ignis’ favorite meal.

“The taste of your blood,” he murmured so quietly Prompto almost didn’t hear him. The words brought a stirring forth within him, made him squirm with anxious excitement. Ignis’ dark chuckle made him shiver. 

His lips travelled to Prompto’s chest, where a few more daring marks shined the brightest in his skin. Ignis had only just begun to dare to feed so close to his heart; something about the act brought a thrill to the both of them. The implicit trust that Prompto had placed in Ignis was something that the both of them treasured.

“The beat of your heart, I’ll miss the most,” Ignis said softly, as his gaze rose to meet Prompto’s. Though the scarlet hue of his eyes hinted at his lust for Prompto’s body and blood, his face was contrite.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto murmured. He touched Ignis’ face, stroking his thumb over the chiseled curve of his cheekbone.

“It’s not necessary,” Ignis replied as he kissed the scars over Prompto’s heart. “It’s terribly selfish of me to keep you alive when you so willingly want to give your life to me to make the afterlife better for the both of us.”

Prompto snorted as he shook his head. “I knew it, you were just into me for my blood.”

“Of course,” Ignis said with just enough of a smirk to expose a fang. “It’s so delicious.”

His breath hitched as Ignis sank his teeth into the flesh of his pectoral. His heart began to beat harder, pushing Ignis’ venom through him quickly, and it wasn’t long until his toes were curling and his eyes were rolling back in his head. Ignis took a lazy, long drink from him until he was gasping and writhing on the bed.

“Ignis,” Prompto whined.

“What, darling?” Ignis asked before running his tongue over the fresh puncture wounds.

Prompto shivered. “You always do this.”

Ignis sighed as he pressed little kisses over the fresh marks. “I suppose I can’t make you wait any longer then.”

The blonde grinned at his vampire lover. Ignis sat up on the mattress and leaned over to light another candle next to its waning companion. Prompto felt as if he might die of anticipation; it had been such a long time, filled of many nights of preparation, leading up to this moment.

Ignis had insisted on preparing him as best as he possibly could. Short of actually drinking blood from a living, breathing thing, he had taken Prompto on many hunts, making him watch as Ignis fed and usually killed his hosts. Perhaps he’d intended to drive the blonde away from the prospect of murder, but knowing he already consumed plenty of meat, it wasn’t that different short of doing the job himself.

“It’s going to hurt,” Ignis warned. “It will perhaps be the most painful thing you will ever endure.”

Prompto merely smiled smiled at him. “It’s worth it. We’ll be together forever.”

Ignis’ worried face melted into something sweet and soft. Ever so gently, he stroked the freckled edge of his collarbone. “Prompto  _ Argentum _ .”

“Ignis  _ Scientia, _ ” Prompto replied, relishing the way his lover’s name rolled off his own tongue.

“You’ve always been quite something.”

“So you tell me.”

Ignis rolled onto his back and tugged at Prompto’s arm, inviting the blonde to drape himself across his chest. “Do you know the process?”

“Only what I’ve heard from myths,” Prompto muttered, tracing idle patterns into the smooth skin on Ignis’ chest.

“I’ll feed from you until near death,” Ignis explained, “which takes much longer than our normal feedings. I’ll try my best to expedite the process, so long as I can control myself.”

Prompto nodded as he bit his lip. As excited as he was to change, to belong to Ignis, to belong  _ with _ Ignis, the process was daunting.

“Then you’ll feed from me.”

“I’ll feed from  _ you? _ ” Prompto exclaimed. “But my teeth aren’t sharp. I can’t get deep enough to drink from you.”

“Which is why I have something for you,” Ignis explained, “to aid you.”

Ignis reached for the nightstand- a new addition to their room,  _ their room _ , Prompto tried not to squirm at the thought- and drew a long, black, velvet box from its drawer. He handed it to Prompto before sitting up against the headboard to watch him closely. “Open it,” he said quietly.

Prompto dug his thumbs into the seal at the side, wrenching open the box at the seams, to reveal a dagger. It sparkled in the candlelight, its stainless steel surface glimmering in the light’s golden hue and casting it in a fantastic flow. A snake was sculpted into the hilt that intertwined around it. It was remarkably simple, minimal even, but it was perfect.

“I’ll trust in you as you have trusted in me for so many months,” Ignis said, reaching to cover the Prompto’s hand and squeeze it over the hilt. “We’ll cross the bridge together. I’ll be right at your side.”

The dagger shined as Prompto turned it over. Gleaming with a promise of the future, of death, of ends, of beginnings, the blade felt so heavy in his hands. It would help end his life.

It would kickstart his future.

His forever.

“I’m ready,” Prompto whispered, setting the dagger carefully on the bedspread. He looked to his lover, finding a flurry of emotions lying there in pools of emerald green. Ignis merely smiled bittersweetly as he stroked the scars on Prompto’s neck with the pad of his thumb.

“I’ll miss you,” Ignis whispered. “My love. My favorite meal.”

Prompto smiled back at him and laughed, his breath hitching with nerves. “You’ll have me back soon enough.”

“For once, I find myself thrilled with the idea of eternity,” Ignis murmured, “Because I get to spend it with you.”

The kiss they shared was long and languid. No rush for time, no pressure of mortality chased them into a fervorous temperament; this would be the last kiss they would partake in as mortal and immortal, fire and ice, life and death. Prompto relished the smooth, cool touch of his lover’s lips chilling his plush, pink lips, of their naked bodies grinding and slipping against each other.

Soon there would be no difference, no divide. They would endlessly, wholly be part of each other. Thrall and master, death immortal.

“I love you,” Prompto whispered. “See you on the other side.”

“Soon, my darling. I love you too,” Ignis breathed as he stroke Prompto’s flaxen hair. “Where would you like your last scar?”

Prompto turned his head to bare the left side of his neck. The skin there was pure, pristine, untouched by his lover. As soon as he knew he wanted to turn, he’d saved it for his last scar, the scar that would turn him. It would bear Ignis’ mark forever, or at least that was what Ignis had told him when he showed him his own turning mark.

Ignis smiled at the sight. “You’ve been saving it,” he said sweetly. Prompto nodded shyly and Ignis kissed the pale, freckled, virginal flesh. “Wonderful.”

The blonde trembled as Ignis’ lips touched his neck. He’d done it dozens of times before, feeding off his life before he loved and nourished him as he always did. Ignis cherished him and cared for him, never making Prompto regret his choice to sustain his lover. This time was different, though. It was the last time Ignis would feed from his human form.

Ignis took his time letting his hands rove over the familiar planes of Prompto’s body, lingering in his favorite spots over his wrists and heart- the places the blood was closest to the skin- as well as the scars he’d left across his chest and neck. His breath hitched as Ignis peppered his neck with soft kisses. Soon, his heart was thrumming in his chest with anxiety.

Prompto drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He could feel his heart calm as he breathed, and wondered if it would have the same effect tomorrow. Would he still feel anxiety? Would he feel anything? He probably would; when he looked into Ignis’ eyes, he saw love there like he’d never seen before. The thought of that alone brought him enough comfort to quiet his heart.

Ignis’ tongue, cold and wet, passed over his skin timidly. Prompto ran his hands up his back and rested them on his shoulder blades. His lover continued with his careful, calculated movements; it was almost as if he was nervous.

“You’ve done this a hundred times, Iggy. It’s okay. You’re just going a little longer this time,” Prompto said as he gently stroked his back.

“You’re the one dying and you’re comforting me,” Ignis said with a gentle laugh. “I truly have been blessed with such a lovely companion.”

“Iggy,” Prompto murmured.

“Alright, not a moment longer,” Ignis said with a smile. “Goodbye for now. See you soon.”

“Bye,” Prompto said with a waver in his voice.

His lover’s mouth closed on the tender flesh of his neck. Ignis massaged with his tongue while sucking his skin, surely leaving it a rosy shade of red. He took his time working with the freckled column of his neck until its entire surface tingled with the numbing agent. Prompto hummed with anticipated pleasure; the build-up was always his favorite part and he tried to focus on that rather than the pain he knew was lurking in its shadows.

Ignis’ teeth plunged into his neck, drawing a sultry moan from his prey. It only egged him on to dive further into his flesh. The vampire never drank from him this deep or this hard; drawing from the carotid sent the venom straight to Prompto’s brain and his jaw dropped open in ecstasy. Pain was ensconced completely by pleasure as the venom leaked through him.

“Iggy, don’t stop,” Prompto groaned. As he spoke the muscles in his throat flexed, driving his lover’s fangs even deeper inside of him. Blood began to spill from the sides of Ignis’ mouth and the vampire slurped hungrily at his skin. Its warmth contrasted the chill of Ignis’ lips, sending shivers up his spine. A cool hand stroked the other side of his neck, urging him to calm himself.

His toes began to curl into the bedspread and Prompto grabbed fistfuls that he white-knuckled at his sides. Each breath drawn grew more sobbing, more desperate as Ignis fed hungrily. Prompto could feel a cold, damp spot growing on the satin beneath his head; Ignis had pierced him so deeply he couldn’t keep up with the blood flow. He should have been scared, terrified even, but Prompto’s pleasure-soaked brain had him begging for more.

A coldness began to grow in his toes that slowly creeped up his legs. It was only a moment before he could no longer feel his feet, then his fingertips; as he lost more blood, his body couldn’t warm itself. Slowly, he began to shiver. Prompto could see Ignis’ blood-red eyes focused on his face out the corner of his fading vision.

The shivering became uncontrollable; his body shook so hard he could hear the springs of the mattress squeak in protest. It was almost like floating on a cloud; the pain, the pleasure, the numbness, it drew him to a new plane he was positive he’d never been on before. The alien nature of the sensation was terrifying. 

Prompto knew he was fading fast; it wouldn’t be long now. Soon, death’s grip would begin to close around his heart and brain, and only Ignis would be able to save him. He opened his mouth to try to speak, to try to cry out his lover’s name, to beg for comfort in his final hour, but his throat merely spasmed from the effort.

His lungs ached as he drew breath after breath but no air could pacify the burning pain in his body. Every muscle contracted and twitched with effort, no matter how much he willed himself to be still. Prompto’s fingers twitched over Iggy’s hand and all he could do was look at his lover.

“I’m here,” Ignis said, his tone rushed and heady. Prompto watched as he wiped trails of blood from his chin with his wrist before grabbing the dagger. “I’m here, it won’t be long. You’re doing so well.”

“Igs…” Prompto groaned. He could hear his teeth colliding in his mouth in a rapid chatter. It was cold, so unbelievably cold; he’d always thought the icy tundra of Nifleheim would be the coldest he would ever experience but this far surpassed it. Ignis took his shaking hand and pressed it to the gaping wound in his neck.

“Pressure, darling, you can’t lose much more,” he said softly. Though his tone was kind, the lust in his eyes, the  _ hunger _ , was terrifying; Ignis was normally so good at concealing his blood lust, but with this much feeding, he must have lost control. 

Prompto pressed as hard as he could into the side of his neck. The beat of his heart had slowed tremendously. He could feel it pulse in his chest, in his brain, and with every little gush of blood that seeped through the gaps between his fingers. Each beat drew just a little more out; the warmth of his own life, his fluids, heated his hand.

The blade of the dagger glimmered in the light of the candles and was a brief flash of light streaking through the darkness as Ignis drew it across his wrist. He winced, clutching at his arm as blood spilled from the gaping wound, slowly, sluggishly, black as tar and thick as mud. Prompto’s eyes widened as Ignis’ blood splattered across his chest.

“Now, Prompto,” Ignis said through gritted teeth, as he drew Prompto up into a seated position and cradled his head in his hand. “Drink from me.”

Prompto closed his eyes tight as the warm flesh of Ignis’ wrist touched his lips. His blood was thick and sweet like honey, which was not at all what he was expecting; surely, from the look of it, Prompto thought it would be sickening, disgusting maybe. Rather, he had trouble containing himself as he suckled hungrily at Ignis’ arm.

“Good,” Ignis murmured. “Keep going, darling.”

The vampire’s eyes fell shut and his lips parted as Prompto fed from him. Surely, it would be pleasurable for him like it was for Prompto. The slight crease between his eyebrows that formed as his head dropped back was evidence enough. Prompto continued to consume the sickly sweet fluid as Ignis cradled his face to his arm.

The blood loss and the thick, viscous fluid in his belly were amalgamating into a sick concoction of sensation.. His entire body was burning like a wildfire; there was no control, no saving grace. He could feel the sweat pooling just below his navel and dripping down strands of hair that were clinging to his face. 

His brain was sluggish and weak. Thought seemed to have escaped him for the moment. Now, it was just his primal instinct, the  _ id _ , keeping him alive. It begged for more of Ignis, more of his body and blood. Prompto sunk his teeth into Ignis’ wrist with fervor and the man gasped.

“Prompto,” he groaned.

The blonde pulled away from Ignis as his body began to shake again. The heat was unbearable now. It was as if he was boiling from the inside out. He wondered if it would ever end: the searing heat, the burning pain, the want for Ignis and his lifeforce. Prompto could feel tears stinging his cheeks as he shook.

“Shhh, darling, you’ve done marvelously,” Ignis cooed. “Rest now. Sleep.”

“Iggy,” Prompto choked.

“I know, it’s awful,” Ignis murmured, wiping the tears from Prompto’s face. “We’ll be together again soon.”

The heat, the shaking, it was all drawing what little energy he could muster. Prompto fought the urge to close his eyes and submit; he knew there was a terrible fear in his own eyes as they laid on Ignis’. The vampire stroked his face lovingly with bittersweet sorrow as he witnessed his change.

“Thank you,” was all Ignis could say.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The void of night, swallowing all light and breeding shadow, was comfortable. Rather, it was home to Prompto now. Trunks zipped by as Prompto darted through the trees. They were easy to spot now, along with the brush and rocks that lined the forest floor. His night vision had greatly improved; now it was perhaps better than his daytime vision. There was nothing better than this, than the embrace of darkness and all of her secrets. Prompto loved the open air and the secrecy of the shadows.

Besides deep in the blackness of the night and all its haunting beauty, there was only one other place he would rather be.

“Prompto,” Ignis called into the darkness. The blonde returned to his side and took his hand. From here, they could watch the starlight dance across the surface of the Vesperpool. No animals or daemons were nearby; then again, with the presence of two vampires, nothing was willing to show its face- or bare its neck.

Prompto cuddled close to his companion as they absorbed their surroundings. Aside from the occasional frog or cricket, the only sound that carried across the expanse of water was the gentle breeze that flowed through the trees at its shore. The chill of the night had no effect on them; it had been a long time since Prompto had felt the air nip at his skin.

“Better?” Ignis asked, wrapping an arm around Prompto’s shoulders and holding him close.

“Much,” Prompto said, smiling up at his lover.

The moon, golden yellow and full, dipped above the surface of the lake. Its light spilled across the crest of every ripple like literal moonbeams dancing on the water. It was truly breathing and beautiful- a view all their own. No humans could survive the daemon-infested forest to make it out here.

It was something Prompto and Ignis treasured. The peace that the water lapping at the shore, the light shimmering in the water’s surface, the gentle movement of the air brought them was incomparable. The two didn’t come out here often -the scent of human, of blood, was still too much for the young thrall at times, he didn’t have the composure Ignis did at his age- but tonight was special.

The ashy blonde turned to his companion with emerald eyes honed on him, glittering with affection and allure all the same. Ignis ran a hair through Prompto’s soft, blonde locks, pulling his bangs to the side before cupping his cheek in his other hand to draw him forward for a kiss. It was long and languid; their mouths slotted together perfectly and tongues danced between pale, perfect lips.

“Are you still happy with your decision?” Ignis asked quietly as he let his hand linger over the ruby red scars on Prompto’s neck. His thumb slipped over them idly as he watched Prompto’s pale eyelashes flutter open.

“Of course. Helps that I’ve had so much time to think about it,” Prompto chuckled. “Why do you ask?”

Ignis’ eyes softened at Prompto’s gentle laughter. “I remember my hundredth. It was a somber affair.”

“Will you quit it?” Prompto chirped, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Ignis’ cheek. “Look at me, Iggy.”

“Yes, love,” Ignis murmured, holding Prompto’s face gently in his hands as he gazed down at him.

“I love you. This is still the best decision I’ve ever made,” Prompto said sternly as he searched Ignis’ eyes.

“We’ll see what eternity brings. Perhaps something even better,” Ignis teased.

“Nope! Impossible. This,” Prompto said, pausing to kiss his lover, “Is the best. Always will be.”

“Happy hundredth deathday, my love,” Ignis purred before kissing Prompto’s cheek.

“Thank you, Ignis, for everything,” Prompto whispered.

“Thank you,” Ignis replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me! Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and bookmarks too. Come find me on tumblr @tinyconfectionary. Let's be buds.


	5. Goodnight, Sweet Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS IS THIS A NEW CHAPTER!? IT IS. Thanks, Del, for commissioning some more of this fic!!

“Noct. Let’s stop and ask for directions. Maybe they can give us a bounty or two,” Gladio said, flicking a spot on the map with his finger. The paper crinkled under the force of his thick fingers, making a wrinkle in the old parchment. “There’s a place called Meldacio down the road. Maybe we can ask them.”

“Gladio, c’mon, we can figure it out,” Noctis groaned, flopping his head back against the headrest as he fidgeted with the tip of the windshield wiper toggle.

The look he received in return for his statement said all the words Gladio would not.  _ We’re going whether you like it or not _ .

“Fine,” Noctis sighed, sinking down into the seat and turning the car on.

The treeline thickened as they whizzed down the highway. Sprawling prairies morphed into deep thickets of trees and brush, all shades of verdant green that blurred into a monochromatic palette in his peripheral. It was so different from Insomnia, which was built in the oasis of a desert. Noctis couldn’t stand the moist air and heavy scent the forest carried when they were in the Slough, but now the crisp pine scent and gentle breeze were alluring.

Rolling his window down, Gladio grunted, pinning the pages of his book down with his forearm. “You gotta do that?”

“It’s nice outside,” Noctis said simply. “Plus, it smells good.”

Gladio held his book up and waved it at Noctis. “This, this is the best smell in the world. Old, dead wood, pressed into pages. Ain’t ever gonna get better than that.”

“Whatever, meathead,” Noctis said with a grin, whining as Gladio affectionately ground his knuckles into the top of his head.

“Sun’s goin’ down. Better get to Meldacio soon.”

“I know, I don’t wanna see another iron giant.”

Lights flickered through the trees, dancing like constellations as they approached a massive structure. A tunnel appeared in a clearing, along with a small outpost posed at its maw. It seemed too small to be a town; was this Meldacio? Maybe it wasn’t a town, Noctis mused. More like an outpost.

Pulling over, Noctis killed the ignition and took the opportunity to stretch in his seat. Gladio gave him a firm pat on the shoulder before stepping out of the Regalia, lifting his arms overhead and standing on his tiptoes with a groan. They had been driving for far too long; His Majesty surely would have nagged them to stop had he known how long his son had been behind the wheel.

Noctis clambered out of the car to stand beside Gladio, who was squinting at the map. The lack of sunlight from the setting sun was making it difficult to read, so his Shield resorted to looking around until they spotted a man with a table, looking official.

“Hey,” Gladio grunted, approaching the man. “Can you tell us where we’re going?”

“Sure can,” he replied. “Name’s Dave. What can I do ya for?”

Noctis took the map from Gladio and set it down on his table. “We need to get to this Myrlwood place.”

The ragged-looking blonde examined the map with his sunken eyes. The man looked as if he hadn’t slept in ages; Noctis could sympathize, even if he’d gotten a full night’s rest the evening before. There was never enough time to sleep, in his opinion. Dave’s eyes narrowed as they fell upon the location under Noct’s finger.

“Yeah, if y’are who I think y’are, you shouldn’t be wanderin’ to that there forest this late in the day,” he said.

Gladio, who wasn’t about to take no for an answer, leaned over the table and jabbed at the map with his finger. “Look, he may be the prince, but he’s more than capable,” Gladio said gruffly and sending a burning surge of pride through his young liege, “ _ and _ he’s got me. Y’don’t become the Shield of a King, or a prince or whatever, for nothin’.”

Dave crossed his arms as he stood up straight, resembling a stone column: unyielding, aged, and strong. His face was stony too, as he set his eyebrows in a furrow and stared Gladio down. The shield had height, but Dave had will, and soon Gladio sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingers.

“Can you at least tell us why?” Noctis pleaded.

Dave sighed. “Listen, you can go out there if you want, but I dunno what you’re gonna find. Forest’s been real dangerous these past few months,” Dave said grimly. Noctis and Gladio looked at each other with a morbid curiosity.

 

__________________________________

  
  


Twilight painted the sky in deep hues of magenta and purple as Ignis and Prompto set out for the evening. The sun had set low below the horizon, darkening the sky to a bearable visibility; Prompto’s eyes, which had been sensitive to the light as a human, were now incredibly attuned to the dark and even an overcast day would singe his pupils. Ignis told him it was one of the more negative attributes of their kind.

Prompto held his camera up to snap a shot of the dark treeline teasing at the vibrant hues, barely lit by twinkling stars before they went on their way. Ignis was more than happy to give him the time he needed to ease his eyes into the evening light. Even after six months, he was still growing, still changing, and discovering new things about himself.

As Ignis had once said, he was still finding his vampire. Prompto always argued that he already had, which often earned him a pointed smile from his  _ master _ . That was what Ignis told him their relationship was now, master and fledgling, though Ignis was always just, fair, and never commanded him. Prompto appreciated that about him, among the many other things he’d come to know and love in their brief but intense relationship.

“Iggy,” Prompto called. “Where are we going?”

His footsteps fell short and staccato behind Ignis’ long, swooping strides. They were dressed for the weather, which was odd, considering both of them could no longer feel the stinging bite of the frosty air or the dulling freeze of the snow beneath their boots. Ignis told him they needed to blend in if worse came to worst, but the grim look on his face told Prompto their outward appearance would be the least of their worries. The anxiety had faded quickly from his emerald eyes as fondness overtook it and Ignis made quick work of tying a scarf around Prompto’s neck before bestowing him with a swift kiss.

“We’re going into the forest,” Ignis said. “After the last time, I no longer wish to bring prey home with me. I hope my intent is obvious,” he added with a simmering look.

“Mhm,” Prompto added shortly as he looked away from his partner. His cheeks grew heated as he remembered the embarrassing incident in the kitchen. Ignis had caught a rather plump-looking garulet and brought it home with him for Prompto to feast on. The blonde had torn the poor thing apart in his frenzy, leaving a blood-soaked kitchen that required a severe scrubbing to cleanse of his kill.

For some reason, it was wildlife that Ignis preferred to feed him with, not that the blonde could complain. He had sustained himself on blood drawn from Ignis’ hunts after their deaths and blood taken from an old corpse was not nearly as satisfying as the fresh stuff. Ignis hated it when Prompto called it the fresh stuff, but it wasn’t like he was coming up with anything better. For now, while Prompto was still young and his frenzies nearly uncontrollable, Ignis chose to keep him away from humans.

“I saw a herd of spiracorn near the Vesperpool that looked particularly satisfying,” Ignis said. “Fat. Happy. They should keep us fed for awhile, if we can manage to contain ourselves.”

A pointed look in Prompto’s direction told him that Ignis wasn’t using the word we as in them, he meant we as in Prompto. He nodded his head and pulled his beanie down over his pointed ears. “Got it. Don’t let the fledgling vampire thing turn into a murder and mayhem thing.”

“Exactly, darling,” Ignis replied, taking Prompto’s hand and giving it a firm, loving squeeze.

It wasn’t long before the vibrant sunset was engulfed by the dark, comforting shroud of night. Stars glittered overhead like pinholes in paper, its voidlike darkness permeated by their faint, persistent light. Prompto noted the constellations as they travelled, pointing them out to Ignis, who in turn taught him a few. This was always their chosen method of entertainment while hunting. The starry night was always moving, always changing; it brought Prompto some comfort to look up and see something not quite the same as when he last saw it.

Any human would have noticed the towering horns and beautiful, black hides of the spiracorns as they approached the herd. Prompto wasn’t  human anymore, so it wasn’t sight that intrigued him; it was the smell and the sounds. He could hear their hearts pounding in their chests like bass drums. It was a smooth, steady rhythm that made his mouth water when he thought of the lifeforce pulsing through their veins. His mind was already hazing with bloodlust as he tried to focus on their scent.

“Prompto, inhale. Focus on their presence, not on the heartbeat,” Ignis said warily. “It should only serve to alert you if your presence is known, not be your beacon.”

Prompto’s voice was shaking as he replied, “right,” and took a deep breath. The musty smell of tree bark combined with the icy-cold air failed to bring him back to his senses. His fingernails had grown long and pointed as the frenzy nearly took him; the stark memory of witnessing his partner’s first frenzy, with Ignis’ own altered appearance, filled his mind.

“I’m ready, Iggy, I’m so hungry,” Prompto whined as he crept silently toward the herd. He felt as if he was no longer in control, that the burning in his gut guided him toward the scent of fresh animal blood and beating hearts. Soon it was spreading all throughout his body. He was on fire now from his fingertips to his toes and the raging inferno within him was consuming his last inkling of humanity.

“Prompto, careful,” Ignis said, his own crimson eyes glinting at him in the darkness. “You’re succumbing. You must keep your wits about you-”

“I can’t,” Prompto sobbed, as his body burned up from the outside in. It was too much: the desire to feed, to consume, to eviscerate; it overtook him, drove him to sprint at the herd. A scream tore from his throat, high-pitched and predatorial, sending the spiracorns into a panic. Their heartbeats quickened and Prompto found himself drooling purely from the sound.

It wasn’t until his teeth sank into the hide of a spiracorn that he realized they were being watched.

 

________________________________

 

Perhaps Dave was right about them making their way to Myrlwood this late in the day. There was something out here, something that made the fine hairs on the back of Noctis’ neck stand up and a weird chill fill his stomach. He couldn’t see it now that the sun had set deep below the horizon and the sky had filled its void with thousands of glittering stars.

He perhaps would take a moment to admire it, if he weren’t so nervous.

“Noct,” Gladio said quietly, crouching behind a tree. They’d made it deep into the Myrlwood, avoiding most of the monsters that resided within. The two had happened across a massive clearing, where they had decided that might be a good place to camp when Gladio pulled Noct behind the tree and pressed a finger to his lips.

“You feel that?”

“The creeping, looming thing? Yeah,” Noct said, rubbing the back of his neck, willing the hairs to settle. They would not, it seemed, as they stood straight up like radio antennae, hopefully to perceive whatever it was that was hiding out there.

Gladio nodded before looking out into the clearing. “I think there’s something out there.”

Squinting briefly into the darkness, Noctis could see forms moving across the tall grass, but not much else. He pulled his little flashlight from his pocket, stuck it to his shirt, and turned it on, revealing a herd of spiracorn peacefully grazing in the Myrlwood. They were pretty- when they weren’t trying to impale him on their massive horns, that was.

“Oi, turn that shit off, Princess. You don’t know what’s lurkin’ in here this time of night,” Gladio hissed.

Noctis sneered at him as he flipped his flashlight off. As annoying as the monsters were in here, there didn’t seem to be many daemons. Then again, they were pretty big, so maybe they ate the daemons? He’d never seen a forest so clear of them before. Maybe  _ that’s _ what was so unsettling about this place. The only thing evils such as daemons hid from were things far more unsettling.

That seemed to be the cue for whatever it was the daemons were evading to make its appearance. A blood-curdling scream nearly burst Noct’s eardrums; he clamped his hands down over his ears as Gladio pulled his slight body behind him. His shield winced from the pain surely caused by the hideous sound and Noct could feel the guilt bubbling in his belly- he didn’t want the creature to get Gladio, either-

The spiracorn answered the call with their own response, nickering and neighing frightfully as they made their escape from the clearing. What was once a haven seemed to be their hell, now; the rocky outcroppings on all three sides prevented their flight, and whatever was hunting them took up the fourth side. The predator in question must have been smart - no,  _ intelligent _ \- to come up with such a foolproof plan.

Noctis could’ve sworn he heard a human voice somewhere out there before the pained wail of a spiracorn pierced the air. He heard the animal’s body hit the ground and its hooves colliding with the earth beneath them in a failed attempt to reorient itself. Then another spiracorn hit the ground and Noctis couldn’t help it, the curiosity was too much. He  _ had  _ to see whatever this was that was decimating a large animal with such ease.

It was a person. Well, maybe not a human, but whatever it was looked pretty damn close to the real thing. Noctis’ jaw dropped as he looked on; the … human, the thing, whatever it was, it was nearly angelic. Wisps of faint, blonde hair slipped into view as its hat fell from its head. Then there were the pointed ears - Noct couldn’t help but touch his own ears, just to be sure of himself - that were short and blunt.

Everything seemed fine as he watched it -him?- feed. It drank from the spiracorn with gusto, making a mess of its freckled face. Its fingers were soaked in blood as they held the spiracorn open, making sure the deep gash in its neck kept weeping so the creature could lick its blood up.

His ankle was falling asleep. Noctis didn’t realize how frozen in place, how terrified he had truly been of this… being. He whimpered quietly as he tried to move his foot, but the numbness of it made him move clumsily. Noct’s foot slipped out beneath him and he fell with a small snap, breaking several twigs beneath his body.

Oh, how he wished he had the magic ability to manipulate time. He would’ve paid a million gil to take that accident back. The blonde head that had been feeding so intently on the now-dead spiracorn whipped up in the direction of the sound of his stupidity. He could feel Gladio bristling as the creature looked at them.

Its face was truly hideous. What seemed to be fine, porcelain features were soaked in blood from the eyes down; its feeding was messy and uncoordinated. Eyes, red as the blood on its face, stared at Noctis with lust. Those were not nearly as terrifying as the teeth; needle-sharp canines, dripping in blood and a faint, clear ooze, shined in the light of his flashlight as the thing  _ smiled  _ at him.

“Hello,” it said, its voice gurgling with what was surely blood.

Another head whipped up, this one with sparkling green eyes, a bloodied mouth, and equally sharp teeth. “Prompto,” it said with a warning tone.

The other creature- was it a vampire? Surely, it was, there was no other explanation- looked at Green-Eyes with a growl before turning back to Noctis.

“Get behind me,” Gladio said, pulling his sword from the Armiger. He’d picked a small, swift greatsword; did his shield know what was happening better than he did? Fear seemed to paralyze Noctis as he shuffled back with his hands and feet across the mossy earth beneath him.

Crimson irises seemed to grow, consuming the vampire’s entire eyes before it leapt from its previous prey and sprinted at Gladio and Noctis. The prince pulled his own sword from the Armiger as he stood and braced himself for the worst. It was closing the distance between them quickly and Gladio stood tall and strong, just as a Shield should, but it felt all wrong. If that thing could take down a spiracorn so effortlessly, so ruthlessly, than maybe Gladio would…

“ _ Prompto, I said no!” _ the other vampire yelled. His voice was booming and the command even made Gladio wince.

Prompto still tried to advance toward the prince and shield, but it was as if invisible tethers were holding him back. The vampire howled, first in frustration and then in pain, as he tried to get closer. The other walked up behind him as he clawed at the dirt, trying to pull himself toward them, as his crimson eyes and distorted features burned themselves into Noct’s memory.

“Apologies,” he said calmly, bending over and picking up the twitching, howling vampire. The blood was cleaned from his almond skin and he looked nothing like the mess in his arms. His green eyes were delicately framed by thin-wire glasses that sat upon his sculpted cheekbones. “My… friend is still young. He has not yet gained control of himself while feeding, and humans… you must understand how truly appetizing you smell,” he explained as a flash of crimson overtook emerald for just a moment.

“What the fuck are you?” Gladio growled, brandishing his sword at the man. Vampire. Whatever he was.

He only smiled. “I am Ignis, this is Prompto,” he said, holding up the blonde that had passed out in his arms. The distorted, disgusting features were gone; the man was beautiful, despite the blood drying on his face in a macabre display. Plump, pink lips parted to reveal a row of normal teeth, and his face had relaxed to one of calm. “I am his master. I had to command him - several times, mind you, which is odd - to cease his hunting. It would be rather unfortunate to see the Prince of Lucis and his Shield go in such a disturbing manner. You’re rather important to simply end up as warm blood in his belly.”

“Nevermind, what,  _ who _ the fuck are you? Ignis who?” Gladio replied.

Ignis smiled sadly. “It’s of no importance who I am. Just be thankful you’ll live to see your next sunrise.”

Just as quickly as he spoke, he disappeared into the forest. Gladio slumped against the tree, sending his sword back into the armiger.

“The hell was that?” Gladio sighed.

Noctis stared at the spot in the woods in which they disappeared. “I…. I don’t know,” Noctis replied, stunned.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, kudos, and sacrifices to your favorite ancient deity are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Come shout at me on Twitter @tinyconfection
> 
> NOTE:::
> 
> I changed the chapter count to a ? because I realize that is absolutely not a stopping point LMAO.


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